


Fishing In Balamb

by Glass_mermaid



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_mermaid/pseuds/Glass_mermaid
Summary: Both incredibly powerful and incredibly young, Zell Dincht just wants to take life between his teeth and shake it while Quistis Trepe has a decidedly more methodical approach in the years following their triumph over Ultimecia. Neither have gotten it right thus far and they are forced into one another's orbit for better or worse. What happensafteryou've saved the world?
Relationships: Irvine Kinneas/Selphie Tilmitt, Minor Quistis Trepe/Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart, Zell Dincht/Library Girl, Zell Dincht/Quistis Trepe
Comments: 43
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't stopped writing Until Then, but I have hit kind of a wall, and with all the craziness happening right now and the world kind of shutting down, I wanted something to lighten my heart up a bit. This story has been in the works for years, and if anyone at all reads it, I will be thrilled.
> 
> I wanted to write a story with end game level characters and how they would fit back into the norms of the society they just saved. Having such vast amounts of power to constantly control while learning and maturing because most of the Final Fantasy characters are teenagers, would be incredibly difficult. So... why not mess with them a bit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those gorgeous people as Zell and Quistis are Renan Corbani and Carolina Poqueddo, who are the most stunning people and totally how I imagine our heroes. If anyone takes exception to using them, please let me know and I will take them down.

\----

The day when Quistis Trepe’s life had begun to take a decidedly unexpected turn had been a balmy, heavy summer Monday, the air drawing close and thick around her and bringing on an unwelcome lethargy. Her blouse clung to her sweaty skin beneath the deep blue of her uniform, her thighs stuck together with each purposeful step (forgoing her nylons had been a horrible idea in the end) and her long bangs trapped the heat near her face and brought an unattractive flush to her cheeks. The classrooms of Balamb Garden themselves were reasonably cool with the air conditioning fighting off most of the muggy warmth but the hallways that opened to the sky were stifling and those that were shut gave the impression of walking from a hot bath into a boiler room. But it could never be said that Quistis Trepe didn’t adhere to the rules, and her dress code was as deep-rooted within her as blue magic. She suffered through every winter gritting her teeth when icy wind shivered up her skirt and down her blouse; she would stomach a bit of a heat wave with just as much dignity (if not more) just to show she _could_. 

Nodding politely to the secretary who ushered her through the doors and into the Commander’s office, she moved forward and took her seat. If she noticed the startled look on Squall’s face when he caught sight of her less than pristine condition she ignored it. She did however, frown reproachfully at his personal lack of uniform, envying him his loosely buttoned shirt and the chilly air conditioning of the office he’d have no reason to leave.

“You needed to see me, sir?” she said, mentally applauding herself on the even composure of her tone when she was nearly melting in relief at the feel of the cool air soothing her skin.

She knew what this was about. The teaching union had been on his case about her rigorous schedule despite her own polite letters insisting there was no need for such a crusade. Apparently they hadn’t believed her reasoning. Rinoa had let Squall’s mission slip earlier in the week and Quistis had been avoiding him ever since. However she couldn’t ignore a direct summons to his office and the smothering heat had ground whatever resistance she’d originally had firmly into dust. The first wind of change began with Squall quickly assuming full Commander mode and informing her that she would be taking several of her accumulated days off effective that upcoming weekend. Knowing how diligently and systematically she kept her classes, he had ever so thoughtfully given her several days to organize herself.

“If nothing else, this will get the Officers and Instructors Union off my case, Quistis,” he sighed, brows furrowing in a way that made her realize that any arguing would be fruitless and possibly hazardous to her pay.

But with the oppressive heat bolstering her irritation, it didn’t stop her from an attempt.

“Sir,” she frowned, “Couldn’t this wait? SeeD exams are in the next month and all the Weapon Specialization paperwork needs to be filled and filed.”

“No,” he snapped.

“Squall,” she tried again, “I have fourteen new cadets that need weaponry acquisitions and trainers assigned and my advanced classes still have preparation for Ifrit. If I take – “

“Quistis,” he interrupted her, and the tick in his jaw made her wince. “Two or three days off will not be the fall of Balamb Garden. Contrary to your beliefs, the students will survive without you for a weekend.”

The angrier Quistis became the more her posture tensed and as she felt stress swamp her nerves she knew her spine could have out-straightened a ruler. Her righteous indignation was marred only by the trickle of sweat very slowly tickling its way down her spine. She wondered if it was possible to overthrow a commanding officer with pure resentment.

“And,” he continued, eyeing her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, “if you don’t get out of my office right this second, two days will turn into two weeks.”

Nodding curtly, Quistis stood and strode to the door, opening it to what felt like a near tidal wave of sweltering warmth. She shut it quietly behind her, keeping her hand on the knob for a long moment as she took a breath of the hazy air, bit her lip, and focused on Shiva who sat primly in her mind. She cursed Squall’s poor timing, her own inability to delegate, and most of all the OIU for trying to play hero and royally destroying her well-ordered and effective timetable.

Finally, temper carefully checked and determination renewed, she began to make her way back to her classroom.

When Squall attempted to open his door a few minutes later, he found a heavy mass of ice sealing the knob both inside and out. He sighed bitterly, leaned his head against the door and listened to the steady drip of water as it melted into his carpet.

\--

That night, when her temper had cooled from a rolling boil to an uneasy simmer and the blazing sun had faded away, Quistis sat on the edge of her standard issue dormitory bed, with its standard issue dormitory bedding, and stewed.

Of course it was easy for Squall to toss out orders from behind his huge, fancy desk, but was it practical? Certainly not. He had no idea of the planning and rigorous scheduling she put into each and every week and the irreparable damage he was doing to her system. Her temper was igniting once again, and taking a deep breath Quistis stood, gathered her nighttime things and headed to her bathroom. With perfunctory grace she removed her SeeD uniform, hung it up, and put on one of her comfortable, functional nightshirts. She brushed her teeth, washed off what little make up she wore, and retired to her room. Returning to her bed, she picked up her brush from the nightstand and began the meticulous routine of combing her long hair. Each section received twenty even strokes, and by the end the lengthy mass of smooth gold shone brightly in the lamplight.

She set down the brush and sat for a moment, debating on whether or not to attempt sleep before deciding that some recreational reading might be a good idea first. Going to sleep with a poor attitude would only lead to a poor morning. Rolling her eyes at her own bad line, she retrieved her copy of Advanced Magical Strategizing on Contemporary Battlefields before easing herself into the solitary armchair that squatted unobtrusively in the corner of her dormitory, and settling down to read.

But her mind wouldn’t cooperate with her directives. Something was nagging at the edge of her consciousness; some important thought she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She tried to engross herself in the material, tried taking deep breaths, and even tried pretending it was a pre-exam study session, but nothing worked. Finally with an aggravated sigh, she allowed the book to fall into her lap and rubbed her temples.

What was wrong? What was she feeling?

Standing, she shelved her book and switched off the lights, making her way to her bed sight unseen as she did each night. She folded back the neatly pressed sheets, slid within, and adjusted herself on her back, arms down. She’d read it was the position best suited for spinal alignment.

Abruptly, she realized what the niggling voice at the edge of her consciousness was trying to tell her.

_I’m boring. I’m predictable. I am twenty four years old and found the thought of taking a few days to myself as ridiculous and implausible as being asked to single-handedly fight Ultimecia bare-naked with a bar of soap._

Quistis swallowed, throat dry.

_Is this really who I wanted to be?_

She already knew the answer, and admittedly, didn’t like it very much.

\---

Zell Dincht was frustrated. The mission in Dollet had been B.O.R.I.N.G and he hadn’t even got a single punch in when the fighting finally started. Selphie had the guy waving the white flag in less time than it had taken her to say booya, and after what had seemed like a billion hours of surveillance, too!

He flung his dormitory door open with a bang, kicking it shut behind him and yawning loudly. Without bothering to take off his uniform, he threw himself onto the bed and lay face first in the pillows.

The whole thing had been one big giant bore, and even if the guy who owned the harbor restaurant tripled their shitty pay, he sure as hyne wouldn’t do that one again. He was a freaking A class SeeD! He should be doing awesome, super secret undercover missions like Irvine got to do! Not to mention Selphie hadn’t let him drive the assault boat even once on the way to or from Dollet. She was crazier behind the wheel than he was, but when he’d told her that she’d threatened him with The End if he didn’t get out of her helm.

He shouldn’t be stuck rounding up petty creeps and arsonists and shit! He figured he had proven himself enough fighting sorceresses and freaky stuff like Omega Weapon, so why didn’t Squall trust him with the cool assignments? He was tough. He was handy. Hyne, he was badass!

Rolling off the bed, Zell leveled a few kicks and punches at his specially enforced punching bag, and the satisfying feel of the impact of his fists against something puffed his self-confidence back up and restored the cocky grin to his face.

“Atta boy, Zell,” he said aloud.

He knew he was being pretty stupid. Life couldn’t all be giant adventures and hot dogs, and a lot of the crap they’d had to go through during the second Sorceress War he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemy!

Of course, Almasy had kind of been there anyway but that totally didn’t count.

Spirits renewed, Zell tore off the rest of his uniform and threw it onto the floor. He yawned loudly, stretching as far as he could on his tiptoes before hurling himself on top of the bed. He didn’t bother with the covers or the lights, merely sprawled on top with his arms hung over the edge.

Man, his bed was uncomfortable.

The sudden realization that he hadn’t showered had him bursting upright, nearly scrabbling for his clothes once again before he decided the effort would require way more energy then he currently wanted to exert.

“Screw it,” he sighed, yawning again.

He’d shower in the morning after training. Or he’d just put on tons of deodorant.

Life was good.

\---

It was dinnertime the following day, and as was their unspoken agreement they all gathered together each weekday night for the one meal. Their worlds had split into many different paths and even though they all still lived in Garden it was easy to lose track of one another. If they hadn’t made it a sort of haphazard tradition to settle down together for one meal a day they might have gone for weeks without seeing one another.

“Alright, Squall,” Quistis said, eyes narrowed at the brunette, “you forced this ill timed vacation on my head, so you had best have something for me to do.”

Rinoa stifled a laugh behind her hand, watching her boyfriend’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. She knew he’d been leery of Quistis’ irritation and the retribution it might lead to, but the two of them were too stubborn to back down. Unrepentant, Squall took another drink of his coffee, deliberately slow, and shrugged.

“Quisty,” Irvine drawled, smiling disarmingly at her from across the table, “you tellin’ me a lovely lady like yourself doesn’t have dates lined up from here to Dollet?”

She slipped her spoon into her soup and elegantly lifted a mouthful to her lips, utterly immune to his attractive grin. “I don’t date,” she frowned.

“We noticed,” Selphie sighed, swinging her arm around the blonde in a hug of exaggerated sympathy. “You make the little Trepie’s cry when you reject their lovey-dovey smooches!”

The bubbly girl pouted, eyes huge and lip trembling, but fortunately Quistis was also immune to Selphie’s exaggerated charms. The auburn haired gunslinger across the table however, directed a not very subtle sidelong stare at the giggling girl who remained oblivious to him as usual.

Ignoring the tiring two and arching a brow, Quistis leveled another accusing look at Squall.

“C’mon Quisty,” Selphie cajoled, taking pity on the Commander after a tense moment. “What do you do for fun? You’re always so busy with teaching and everything you never have time to just kick back and relax! Carpe diem! Audeamus! Ad astra! Et cetera Et cetera!”

By now Selphie was out of her chair, arms wide and voiced lifted to an embarrassing shout. She laughed before falling breathlessly back in her seat.

“Phoenix pulpit!” Zell added around a mouthful of food, shoving his plate onto the table and throwing himself down after it beside the girl.

At the odd looks he received, the blonde shrugged. “What? Ain’t you talkin’ about those word thingies old men always use?”

“I think he meant felix culpa,” Quistis corrected idly without looking up, contemplating Selphie’s words.

Zell smiled in thanks, which she missed as she studied her soup, before diving headlong into his dinner and promptly forgetting anything and anyone else.

“I do have reading that needs catching up on,” she admitted, his frantic motions finally drawing her attention. She watched the fist fighter cram an impressive forkful of chicken into his mouth from the corner of her eye with dismayed fascination.

Selphie made a face. “That’s not what I meant by fun, Quisty!”

“What do you suggest than?” she asked dryly, “Balamb isn’t exactly known for the entertainment scene.”

“Nope,” Zell cheerfully threw in, still chewing, “It’s known for the fish!”

Quistis sighed and after swallowing another huge bite Zell smacked a fist against the table, causing it to quake ominously. “Hey, yea! Quisty, you ever been fishin’?”

“No,” she said firmly. Waving a stick and a string over the water for hours on end with no definite outcome didn’t seem particularly productive to her.

“Never?” Irvine asked. “Why not? It’s relaxin’.”

“I don’t need to relax,” Quistis said and pointedly ignored the eye rolls exchanged around the table.

“You do this weekend,” Squall muttered, deliberately baiting her.

It had taken him nearly an hour to finally get out of his office after her little GF stunt.

Jumping from his seat, Zell slapped his palms eagerly against the table, sending coffee sloshing over the edge of Squall’s unfortunately nearby mug and several peas jumping off of his plate.

“That’s it! What say you and me go fishin’ Quisty!” he said, beaming. “I’ve got some old gear at Ma’s house and I was headin’ over that way this weekend anyway!”

“I think - ” I’d rather eat Irvine’s hat, she thought, but she closed her mouth after catching sight of Squall’s expectant glare. He figured he had her cold refusal pegged. He was just waiting to heap more off time onto her head. The obliviously expectant cheer in Zell’s blue eyes wasn’t making refusal any easier, either. She offered him a tight smile. “… that would be fine, thank you.”

“Awesome!” he crowed.

He punched an excited fist in the air, smiling broadly, and Quistis was taken aback by his zeal. Guilt flooded her at her own lack of excitement at the thought of dealing with Zell for an entire day. She hadn’t realized he would be so beyond ready and willing to spend time with her. Of course, Zell was unbearably enthusiastic about just about everything he undertook.

 _Okay_ , she thought, tentatively acquainting herself with the unforeseen and rather unappealing idea, _this weekend I learn how to fish._


	2. Chapter 2

To be honest, her day had started out wonderfully. She’d showered, put on her uniform, done her hair and make-up and made excellent time. Heading down to breakfast, she’d been quick enough to get good, fresh coffee and they still had vanilla yogurt when she got her breakfast. After eating, however, things went decidedly downhill. The first indication of a Bad Day happened immediately upon entering her classroom. A young man named Gersh stumbled into her and instead of apologizing as she expected, he’d promptly leaned forward and vomited. She’d skittered backwards, avoiding most of the sickly splatter, and ordered the obviously hung-over student to the infirmary. She called the janitors but it had taken them nearly an hour to arrive and by then the disgusting smell had permeated the entire classroom. The students did little but gripe and moan as if she herself was unable to smell it and they suffered alone. She hadn’t let on that it bothered her, but promised herself the Gersh’s punishment would be excruciating.

The second harbringer of a bad day was during weapons practice when an overeager student had managed to lose the grip on their spear and smacked her in the shins hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.

But, the event that sealed the deal and nearly shattered her dangerously frayed composure was during the lunch rush. A girl, obviously not paying attention to where she was going, smashed into Quistis and knocked her glasses right off of her face and her tray right out of her hand. She furthered the damage by attempting to rush to the instructors aid and not only stepping on them but managing to snap one of the arms in two. Jaw clenched, Quistis had sent the girl skittering away with an icy glare and had picked up the broken spectacles with as much dignity as she could when her boots and ruined glasses were covered in tomato bisque. Needless to say she skipped lunch, and spent it instead washing her footwear for the _second_ time that day.

By the time the dinner hour had arrived she was drained and more inclined to think on Squall’s order in a positive light. If her week kept going like this, she was going to end up Degenerating her entire class.

“Hey Quistis,” Rinoa said sympathetically when she took her seat, “I saw what happened at lunch. Tough day?”

“Yes,” she sighed, unfolding her napkin with a snap and smoothing it over her lap.

Selphie patted her back, cooing sympathetically. “Want me to get you a little ‘I hate Mondays’ poster?”

“Thanks but that’s fine, Selphie,” she said as she swirled her fork through the pasta on her plate. “What I _need_ is to get my glasses fixed.”

“Somebody in Balamb can do it,” Squall put in unhelpfully.

“When? Nothing’s open past six, and I don’t have time in the morning now that I have so much prep work to do for my classes,” she groused.

Rinoa smiled, leaning her elbows on the table. Even though the blonde was rather formidable when she was in a snit, she was kind of adorable too. It was nice to know that even Quistis Trepe could sulk.

“What about Zell?” she said, waggling her fingers in the air. “He made me my ring, right? I bet you know lots about metal and stuff, right Zell?”

The man in question stopped mid-meal inhalation when he heard his name. He hadn’t been paying attention at all, and when the entire table turned and looked at him expectantly, all he could do was finish sucking back the huge string of noodles he’d been eating and lick the sauce from his lips. He coughed slightly.

“Huh?” he questioned eloquently.

“You make things with metal,” Rinoa explained, “so do you think you could fix Quistis’ glasses?”

“Probably,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can give it my best shot!”

“Fine,” Quistis sighed, nibbling delicately at her dinner. Rinoa’s ring had taken skill to make. There was no harm in letting Zell try and if nothing else she’d just buy a new pair.

“Alright!” Zell crowed. “Where are they? Lemme at ‘em!”

Quistis shot him a look, as baffled by his attitude as ever because he acted as if she were doing him a favor rather than the opposite.

“Eat your dinner first Zell,” she said, “and meet me in my classroom afterwards. I’ve got grading to do so I’ll give them to you then if its convenient for you.”

Nodding eagerly, Zell dove back into his pasta and the conversation steered to other things. Soon enough, Selphie was attempting to wheedle Squall into accepting yet another company’s attempt to cash in on their heroism by manufacturing dolls in their likeness. He’d already given in to a television companies offer to base a miniseries on their adventure, (and he’d given in to a bit of vanity when a gunblade manufacturer asked for permission to call their new prototype the Squall Six) but he drew the line at dolls.

“Squall! You haven’t even seen them! They’re adorable!” she pleaded, and beside her Irvine tried to stifle his chuckles.

“No,” he said coldly.

“Just look at them! That’s all I want! Think of the money it could bring in! You always say Garden could use more money!”

“No.”

“We get final approval of them, so if you hated the little Squally dolly they’d do it over and over and over until they got it right! At least think on it!”

“No.”

Quistis tuned them out, her mind already back in her classroom and the latest round of essays she’d be grading that evening. She had to admit, the silence and succor of her emptying class was looking more alluring by the minute.

\---

Zell threw open her classroom door and hurtled through it, skidding to a halt when he nearly barreled into one of the desk rows.

“Whoa!” he yelped, then, “sorry I’m late!”

Eyeing the brawler dispassionately for a moment, Quistis rued the loss of peace before her gaze fell on the small toolbox he held in his gloved hands. She softened, recognizing that he truly was doing her a favor and had asked for nothing in return. Her patience often seemed to run too thin these days.

“There’s no rush,” she murmured, opening her desk and taking out her glasses case.

She slid it across and he bounded forward, toolbox rattling, and snatched it up before moving around the desk and coming to stand beside her. Flicking the case open, he plucked out the delicate silver frames and the broken arm, whistling low.

“How’d you bust ‘em?” he asked.

“They were stepped on,” she huffed, still rather bitter.

Zell nodded, clunking his toolbox down on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside it. Surprised, as she’d assumed he would be taking them elsewhere, Quistis glanced down at him as he proceeded to throw open the lid and take out an assortment of equipment. She recognized some of it but the majority was a mystery. Sighing, she returned to her marking but found herself glancing at his tools from the corner of her eye. Always intrigued by skills she wasn’t familiar with, she watched him as he whistled merrily, rubbing a piece of steel wool over the broken edges.

“Is metalwork a hobby of yours?” she asked, setting down her pen and turning slightly in her chair to watch him better.

He blinked up at her blankly, blue eyes wide, before comprehension dawned and he laughed.

“Hobby? I dunno, maybe. I just like to mess around, makin’ stuff. I’m a hands on kinda guy,” he shrugged, and she studied the hands in question as he took a metal file and began to scratch the metal of her glasses.

“You do know what you’re doing, right?” she asked dubiously.

“Sorta,” he said, but he glanced up and grinned widely to let her know he was teasing her.

Quistis leaned back in her chair, glancing once more at her papers before returning her gaze to Zell.

“Rinoa’s ring is beautiful. You _do_ seem to know what you’re doing,” she murmured distractedly.

Obscenely pleased by her compliment, Zell paused momentarily to punch the air in triumph.

“Thanks! That thing was a bitch! It took me forever to get Griever right; that sucker is _hand carved silver_. I’ve still got one of the screw-ups somewhere in my room. Man, and I had to freakin’ pay the weaponsmith in Dollet to let me use his stuff ‘cause I ain’t got room in my dorm for molds and kilns and crap.”

Quistis watched his fingers fly, carefully aligning the two pieces and using a length of solder to bridge the gap. He then wrapped the entirety in copper wire.

“It must have been worth it though. It was a beautiful gesture,” she added, shifting slightly in her chair and peering closer at his hands.

Zell shrugged. “I got to keep Squally’s girl happy when he wasn’t there to, you know? Stuff like this ain’t worth nothin’ if I can’t make me and mine happy.”

Aware that she was watching him but nonplussed, Zell took out a small clamp and attached it to the edge of Quistis’ desk, much to her dismay. He secured the broken arm in the vice before opening a small container of goop and smearing it liberally over the break, and finally used two tiny alligator clips to steady the ends of the solder.

“Now comes the fun,” he grinned, and grabbed a small handheld torch from the toolbox. “You might wanna move, you know, just in case,” he cautioned.

She did just that, standing swiftly from her chair and moving warily away. He flicked on the little flame and swiftly ran it over the mess he’d made on her glasses beneath her careful eye.

“Zell baby, you kick so much ass,” he muttered to himself, obviously satisfied, and switched off the torch. “Give it a minute.”

She resumed her seat and lifted her pen once more, intending to resume her work.

“Whatcha up to, Quisty?” he asked, hopping to his feet.

“Aside from the obvious?” she sniffed.

Zell shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, laughing slightly. “Sorry, stupid question.”

She was being much too harsh and she knew it. Impatient with herself for playing so loose and free with her arrogance, she took a deep breath and counted to ten to center herself. Thinking she was about to explode at him, Zell shifted nervously away.

“Thank you,” she said, gesturing to the clamp.

Zell blinked, immediately recovering his joviality. “Nothin’ to it!”

He dropped to his knees and loosened the clamp, snatching up her glasses before they fell. Unwrapping the copper wire, he examined the solder for a minute before nodding to himself. As he moved around the alligator clips he spoke to her.

“Before he took off my Pa made all kinds of this stuff, like bangles and armlets and earrings. I watched a bit and I guess some of it stuck. Never got the whole spell effect part, but I don’t mind.”

He spoke without bitterness or remorse, merely stating fact as he worked. He was smearing more of the waxy paste onto the arm and affixing it again in the clamp. Quistis, surprised that he spoke so nonchalantly about such prickly subject matter, could think of nothing at all to say. In the time she’d spent with Zell his father had rarely been mentioned but whether that was by choice or design she couldn’t say. She felt helplessly inept as he worked away, determined and eager as always as he once again passed the tiny torch flame over the metal.

“Other people could probably teach you that kind of enchanting,” she said. “An apprenticeship is another option.”

“I guess so. I never really thought about it. I just like to have fun,” he muttered absently, studying his work.

Quistis felt slightly rebuffed by his dismissal of her suggestion and picked up her pen again. It really wasn’t any of her business what he did in his spare time. He could spend his entire week singing about hot dogs and waxing poetic on punching bags, but unless it took place in her classroom it didn’t concern her.

“Man, I never thought about you before… How about it, Quisty?” he was asking, and she focused on him.

“How about what?” she questioned cautiously. She knew but the barest of spell crafting but the principles of it and potential rewards were fascinating. Perhaps she could look into practical applications for blue magic users. After all, she was the leading expert.

“ _Fun!_ I just realized I got no clue what you do for fun! I bet you don’t spend all your time markin’ papers and borin’ stuff like that,” he snorted, waving his free hand towards the desk.

Oh. Quistis dismissed her train of thought, intending to investigate in her spare time.

“And if I do?” she murmured, sharper than she intended.

Catching the tone of her voice he glanced up, tilting his head quizzically. It occurred to him that maybe that _was_ all she did and he grew red with embarrassment.

“Shit, sorry Quisty, I forgot you like that kinda bookish thing,” he muttered, and bent his head, carefully taking the arm of her spectacles from the vice and beginning the tedious process of filing away any excess solder.

He promised himself, as the awkward silence stretched on between them, that he’d make it look so good nobody would ever know they’d been broken.

For a time, all that could be heard was the scraping and grating of Zell’s file and the scribble of Quistis’ pen. As if grew heavier and heavier, she began to miss his boisterous chatter. If nothing else she was being oversensitive. After all, it didn’t matter in the end that Zell Dincht thought she was as interesting as mud. He was a friend but she often didn’t give him much credit either.

Feeling ashamed at being so petty, she put down her pen once more and attempted to draw him into conversation.

“It must be satisfying to create,” she said cautiously. “I imagine there’s a strong sense of accomplishment.”

Looking all too happy to be out of the fire, Zell grinned. “Totally!”

He dropped the file to the floor with a ringing clatter and held the arm up to the light.

“One of these days, when I’m really feelin’ it,” he said proudly, “I’m gonna make Library Girl a bracelet or somethin’!”

He reached into his toolbox and snatched up a well-worn piece of fine sandpaper, beginning to smooth it over the arm.

“Shouldn’t you ask her out first?” she asked, cracking a smile.

“I’m gettin’ to it,” he frowned defensively. “Gotta be perfect is all.”

Her mind couldn’t quite fathom what Zell’s idea of the _perfect_ romance was and so she couldn’t resist asking him. “What, exactly, is perfection?”

He glanced up at her, blue eyes narrowed.

“You gettin’ all exit-stencil on me?” he asked suspiciously.

Exit stencil?

“No, I’m not getting _existential_ on you,” she sighed. “I’m just curious to know what the ideal conditions to ask that particular girl out are. Maybe then we’ll understand why you’ve been putting it off for so long.”

Shifting, he stopped smoothing the sandpaper over the glasses and shrugged, glancing up at her with a surprisingly easygoing look in his eyes. She’d been expecting insecurity, defensiveness, even anger, but not this laid back contentment.

“I ain’t like Squall, all mysterious and cool or a total smooth talker like Irvine. Hyne, I can’t even do the whole bad boy thing like Almasy! So, I figure I gotta make askin’ her out the most amazin’ thing ever so that she can’t even think about sayin’ no!”

He began to do the delicate work of refastening the tiny screws into the arm and reattaching the arm to the rest of the frame. As he worked he spoke absentmindedly, losing himself in his obviously well visited daydreams.

“There’s gonna be all that crap girls like; flowers and stinky candles and fancy napkins and rainbows and ponies…”

“Ponies?” she asked skeptically, lost.

He focused on her, nodding thoughtfully. “Yea! All girls like ponies, right? With bells and stuff!”

“I think you’re thinking of little girls rather than women, Zell,” she smiled slightly, amused.

Rubbing his neck he conceded the point. “Yea. I got carried away, I guess.”

He began tossing his tools away, presenting the newly repaired glasses to her with a toothy smile. She examined the break and the newly enforced arm, smiling with satisfaction. She honestly couldn’t have expected better from a professional.

“Thank you, Zell,” she smiled, relieved, and slid them onto her face. “You’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”

Lunging to his feet with box in hand, he waved off her gratitude.

“Don’t mention it, Quisty! It was nice gettin’ to hang out with you for a bit. We never really see you ‘round much anymore. You gotta ease up!”

He grinned, jogging out of the room with only a brief wave of farewell, leaving behind nothing but a pile of silver shavings. Looking at them neutrally, Quistis picked up her pen and finally continued her marking. She did, however, notice that the silence felt heavier now more than ever.

\--


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, what you all were waiting for! Fishing.

Knowing there was no way to escape her, Quistis had stood aside and allowed the enthusiastic Selphie entry into her room as soon as her second round of knocking had begun to grow violent. As an early riser, Quistis had already showered, dressed and eaten, but had been hoping for some quiet mental preparation time where she could sit and reconcile herself with the idea of fishing with the most hyperactive and immature boy she had ever met. She figured it would be like trying to herd a handful of chocobo chicks into a very low fenced pen.

It seemed she would not be granted such a reprieve.

“You know,” Selphie giggled, bouncing on Quistis’ bed, “you could have just told him to get stuffed.”

“Zell of Squall?” Quistis asked ruefully. “Both of them were rather convincing.”

Selphie shrugged, leaping up and coming to poke around in the bathroom where the blonde was fixing her hair back in its usual style.

“Do you think you can handle Zell by yourself for a few hours? He can be so… Zell.”

“Selphie, I was his instructor for several years and we fought a _war_ together. He’s energetic, yes, but I can deal with him.”

The tiny girl shrugged, picking up a seldom-used bottle of perfume and sniffing it experimentally.

“That’s ‘cause you scare the pants off him!” she huffed. “He doesn’t insult _your_ driving.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to insult,” Quistis smirked, fixing the second clip into her hair.

Giving herself a final cursory glance in the mirror, the blonde turned to Selphie and crossed her arms.

“Do you think this is appropriate for fishing?” she asked, gesturing to her regular pale orange outfit with its long leather gloves and boots.

Mystified, Selphie looked her over. “How should I know? I’ve never gone fishing before!”

“Why don’t you join us?” Quistis offered, leaning a hip against the bathroom counter.

Selphie vigorously shook her head. “No way, no how! I’ve got a Garden Committee meeting! We’re choosing our next theme…”

Quistis raised her brows at the brunette’s dreamy gaze, wondering how she managed to remain so dedicated to festival planning year after year. Then again, they probably wondered the same about her passion for teaching.

Snapping out of her momentary trance, Selphie put the long forgotten perfume back down and looped her arm through Quistis’.

“C’mon now, off we go!” she waggled her eyebrows, singing. “Wouldn’t want to keep those fishy fishes waiting!”

Rolling her eyes, Quistis allowed the tiny girl to lead her out the door and through the hallways, only giving her a sharp nudge when she wiggled her fingers teasingly at what was undoubtedly a Trepie. While she wouldn’t mind her fan club becoming Selphie’s, Irvine certainly would. She was beginning to have grave doubts about her attire, as the heat was making her leather gear stick unpleasantly to her skin already, but it was too late to go back and change. They parted company at the elevator, Selphie promising to come revel in the misery of her day that evening and Quistis made her way to the Lobby. She had expected to end up waiting for the routinely tardy Zell but when she arrived she caught sight of his compact form doing a precarious handstand on one of the ledges overlooking the water. He caught sight of her and flipped lightly down, grinning and shaking out his arms. She noticed he was wearing the regular blue civilian shorts, shirt and sneakers he favored rather than his SeeD uniform, the uncertainty about her own choice of clothing easing.

“Hey Quisty!” he greeted her.

“That’s rather risky, isn’t it?” she asked, gesturing to the ledge behind him. She didn’t bother mentioning anything about rules and he wouldn’t have listened anyway.

“Nah,” he muttered, and his eyes darted momentarily behind her, face flushing from more than just the rush of blood to his head.

Glancing over her shoulder, Quistis spotted the familiar dark ponytail of the aptly dubbed Library Girl getting into the elevator. Smirking, she turned back to her friend who rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“I see,” she murmured knowingly.

The blonde shrugged bashfully, eyes drifting back to Library Girl as she made her way over to the elevators. They halted on the expectant Quistis though, belatedly taking in her outfit.

“What is it?” she frowned, uncertain again after catching his surprised look.

A bright, goofy grin stole over Zell’s face.

“Nothin’! I just figured you’d be wearin’, you know, casual stuff.”

Self consciously smoothing down the press of her battle gear with her gloved hands, she straightened her spine.

“This is casual,” she said, a hint of self-consciousness in her voice. For me, she silently added. “You didn’t mention what to wear.”

“No, it’s totally okay,” Zell chuckled, thinking it was either kind of funny or kind of sad that she’d even brought her best whip. Even when she was relaxing she was uptight, and he was leaning towards sad.

“We goin’ or what?” he asked loudly, impatiently shaking off his moment of sympathy. She’d obliterate him if she ever suspected he was sitting around like a moron pitying her for being such a stick-in-the-mud.

He jumped, bouncing on the spot. “I bet you can get us a really cool car ‘cause of your awesome instructor powers!”

“I could,” she sighed absently.

Jogging ahead of her graceful, even pace, Zell kept up a steady dialogue, ranging over all kinds of topics including his mother, T-Boarding and the many amazing qualities of lunch. They arrived at the Parking Garage and Quistis selected one of the standard yellow and green town cars, ignoring Zell’s exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

She also ignored it when he hung his head, thwarted again, as she opened the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. He flopped himself into the passenger seat, staring longingly at the steering wheel. The exaggerated dejection in her eyes was both annoying and amusing, and Quistis gave in, just a little.

“Another time,” she offered, “you can drive.”

Zell beamed at her, perking up immensely.

“Seriously? Promise?” he asked, face lighting up with glee and a bit of fanatical ferocity.

“Yes,” she said hesitantly as she glanced over and caught the fervent gleam in his eyes. She wondered if she’d made a poor choice by extending the offer and made a careful mental note to avoid _another_ _time_ for as long as possible. Considering how seldom she spent time socially, let alone time with the brawler, she felt rather safe.

“So, we stop by Ma’s house and grab my stuff and then we head to the docks!” he grinned, tapping his foot against the floor.

“Fine,” she said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Aw, c’mon Quisty,” Zell coaxed, smiling, “You never know, you might like fishin’! You ain’t even tried it yet!”

Smiling tensely, Quistis swung the car onto the road to Balamb. The difference in heat between the cool, dark garage and the glaring summer was immediately obvious, and Zell fiddled with the temperature controls until a comfortable chill settled over them.

“I will be fine, Zell,” she murmured, squinting her eyes against the brightness and wishing for sunglasses.

He paused for a moment, considering.

“I could shut up if you want,” he offered ruefully. “I got excited, is all.”

She glanced at him sideways, the black tattoo curving over his cheekbone a marked contrast with the pale blue of his eyes. He looked older, she realized abruptly. Adulthood had strengthened the line of his jaw and the edges of his profile. That youth that had hung heavily around him had slid away and left a young man behind.

She wondered when she had last truly looked at him. For a woman who wanted to deepen her friendships with those around her, she was rather inept at it.

“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed, frowning slightly. “I’m… excited as well.”

“Man!” he laughed suddenly, slapping a hand against the dash, “you totally suck at lying!”

Quistis sighed, admitting defeat on that point.

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” she said absently, catching sight of the little seaside town in the distance.

Zell hit the button for his window, immediately letting out the comfortable cool from the interior much to her annoyance. He stuck his head outside, whooping loudly.

“We’re comin’, Balamb!” he crowed, and Quistis sighed, and wondered if she could handle him very well after all.

\--

Mrs. Dincht lived in one of the low-lying stone houses common to the Balamb residential district, the streets quaint and homey with their wrought iron streetlights and potted plants. Zell opened the door before Quistis had even managed to bring the car to a complete stop, swinging around the hood and lunging down the steps to his front door without any regard for personal safety. She hadn’t even decided what to do when he came jogging back up the stairs and back to his door. He leaned in, hands on the roof, squinting into the shade of the car.

“You comin’ in or stayin out’?” he asked.

Nervous, Quistis brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled slightly. “I know how protective you get about your room and such, so I’ll wait here.”

Tensing, Zell slapped the top of the car. “Hey! It’s a sweet room! It’s where I keep my stuff!”

He had slammed the door again and rounded the car before she had even thought of something to say in reply, hopping back down the steps and out of sight.

Quistis leaned her head back against the comfortable seat, blessing the momentary silence. It was atrociously hot though, and she felt rather foolish for wearing all her habitual leather. Old habits were hard to break, she knew, but... should she have _old habits_ before she’d even hit twenty five?

\--

“Ma!” Zell hollered, slamming the front door shut. “I’m gettin’ my fishin’ stuff!”

Ma Dincht hustled out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She tossed the towel aside and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at the young man.

“Not even a hello?! I raised you better than that!!” she snapped.

“Ma,” he whined, hefting her up under his arm and walking on while she smacked at him.

“Put me down, Zell Dincht, before I make you!” she gasped but cracked a smile.

He obliged, dropping her onto her feet and immediately racing up the stairs to his room. It was as neat and tidy as ever, and he congratulated himself on a job well done before throwing open his closet and promptly undoing said job.

“Shit, c’mon Zell baby,” he muttered, “can’t keep Quisty waitin’!”

Digging deeper, he spotted the fishing rods he and his grandfather had once used, tugging them out and wrenching out his tackle box as well. Giving himself a mental high five, he snatched up the gear and left, hooking his ankle around the door to shut it behind him and rushing down the stairs.

“I’m goin’ Ma!” he bellowed.

“Why the rush?” she asked curiously, used to her rather lively son but carefully noting that he had two of the old fishing rods in his arms.

“Quisty,” he answered, pointing his chin towards the door. “She’s waitin’ in the car!”

“Goodness, Zell! You left that poor girl out there in that awful heat? What’s the matter with you?!” Ma gasped, but halted her tirade and gave him a crafty look as he nearly jogged on the spot with impatience.

“I thought you were mooning over that timid little thing that works in the library. Set your sights much higher, did you?” she asked innocently.

“Ma,” he groaned, not quite sure if she was insulting the Library Girl or not. “It ain’t like that! This is _Quisty_ , c’mon!”

She bustled over to one of the windows lining the front of her house, peering out at the SeeD vehicle.

“She’s the lovely leggy blonde one. Why isn’t it _like_ _that_?”

She’d make beautiful grandchildren, Ma Dincht reflected longingly, recalling the stately grace and attractive face of the young woman. And if city gossip was anything to go by she was something of a prodigy. Zell deserved to have an exceptional girl like that by his side.

Zell nearly dropped the fishing gear, fumbling awkwardly to try and keep it all in his arms. Quistis was way too uptight and way too classy for a guy like him, and he needed a girl who could sit back and have a bit of fun! It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed what a dirty male fantasy she was with those long legs and that slinky way she walked, and he’d totally admit that when he’d first walked into her classroom he’d tripped over a freaking desk trying to shut his jaw, (she’d been coiling up her whip, man!) but she was still Quistis Trepe. That translated to prim, proper and _boring_.

She was like one of those posh, shiny ice sculptures; real nice to look at and all, but if he touched it for too long he’d end up frozen to the spot, and Zell Dincht just wanted to _move_.

“Ma!” he whined fiercely, embarrassed at having been reminded of the dirty thoughts he’d had back then, “quit it! I’m goin’!”

“Be sure to say hello for me,” she sighed, heading back to the kitchen where the dishes awaited her.

Zell hurried back to the car, tossing his things into one of the back seats before clambering into the front. Quistis’ cheeks were flushed and damp with heat, eyes closed as she leaned back, and he caught himself glancing at a trickle of sweat falling down her collar and nearly threw himself back out the door in uncomfortable embarrassment.

“Ready?” she asked, opening her eyes and starting the car.

“Yea!” he said, shaking himself and immediately turning up the air conditioning as high as it could go. “Let’s do this!”

\---

Halting proudly in front of a battered, shabby wharf jammed into a line of others, Zell shoved his hands on his hips and grinned before running to the end. He flung their fishing rods down, nearly losing one over the edge, and then tossed his entire body onto the hot, sun baked dock with utter abandon. Rolling onto his back, he tilted his head to see her and grinned as he threw out his arms.

“Welcome to the Dinchty Dock! The most rockin’ dock in Balamb!” he cheered.

“Dinchty Dock?” she asked skeptically, stepping carefully onto the well-worn planks.

She was suffering from the heat but the sea breeze was cool and fresh as it endeavored to push away some of the stifling warmth.

“I made it up on the fly,” he smiled, pleased with himself.

He pushed himself up lightly, crossing his legs and grabbing for one of the fishing poles he’d tossed down. With much more poise, Quistis moved beside him and tried to figure out how she should sit. It had been a long time since she’d traveled with Squall and their motley little group, and back then they were all so tired and filthy by the end of the day that pride was placed far on the back burner. Now, however, she was conscious of the eyes of the group of fisherman prepping their boat on the dock beside them and the gaze of the old man peering through the sun from a dock further down, and even though she didn’t know them, she couldn’t imagine herself forgoing dignity and dropping like a stone the way the brawler below her had.

Zell too, was watching her curiously as she stood above him, his blue eyes almost ridiculously free of guile.

“You comin’ Quisty?” he asked innocently, patting the dock beside him.

Awkwardly she knelt down, nearly wincing at the heat of the wood. She shifted until her legs were out from beneath her, still tucked, and most of her weight was settled on her hip before nodding firmly.

Zell shoved a pole at her and she took it uncertainly. She watched as he threaded one of his fake little bubbles on the line with the ease of long practice, her own pole sitting ineptly across her lap and wondered again why she had agreed to this.

Fists that Quistis had always assumed to be rather clumsy appeared deft and capable as he yanked off his gloves and threw them heedlessly behind him. His Maverick, she noted with a bit of approval, not his most powerful weapons, but with them he was definitely prepared if a situation were to arise. Once again she focused her stare at his now bare hands, which were strong and lean and inexplicably exposed without the usual leather. She looked abruptly away.

“See, when I was just a little guy, Gramps used to take me here and we’d catch fish for dinner! He said that sometimes it was good to sit still and pay attention, and that fishin’ would help me learn that,” he smiled toothily, listening to the lazy collision of the waves against the shore behind them and remembering. “After he died, I just kept comin’. Got to keep the tradition up, right? When I have my own little guys I’ll bring ‘em here and teach ‘em how to fish too!”

Zell glanced over at her happily, at utter ease with talking about such private things. Quistis found his openness both intriguing and daunting and didn’t know what he wanted her to say.

He took her fishing rod without question, attaching another piece of bait to her own before shoving it back into her hands. He stood, and Quistis tilted her head back to look at him.

“Now, see, you’ll get this no problem ‘cause of your awesome whips,” he babbled, giving a run down about reels and such before he flicked his arm and cast his line out. “Come on, you try!”

Encouraged by his confidence, she stood and copied the way she’d seen him hold it and gave it a tentative flick. It didn’t go nearly as far nor hit the surface as cleanly as his, but the way he was beaming at her lifted away some of her uncertainty.

“Awesome! First try, too! You sure you never done this before?” he asked, nudging her playfully which was hard enough to knock her askew. He never seemed aware of his own incredible strength.

She fought the urge to frown away, adjusting her body uneasily because people didn’t _nudge_ Quistis Trepe like she was one of the boys. He didn’t seem to notice though, so she just sighed and looked out to sea.

“I’m a quick study,” she murmured wryly.

Zell chuckled and tossed himself back down, keeping his tenuous hold on the rod as he settled back.

She didn’t spend a lot of time gazing at horizons and often forgot the ocean was even close despite the Garden’s proximity to the shore, but it was admittedly gorgeous. Dozens of fishing boats of every shape and size peppered the waters, some with colorful sails whipped by the wind, others with a haphazard assortment of netting and ropes hanging over them like knotted spider webbing. Despite the obvious hubbub of men casting lines, hauling in nets, sails being raised or taken down, and friendly shouts between boats, there was a lazy, calm vibrancy to the scene that she enjoyed.

Perhaps it was the revitalizing breeze that drifted around her or the lap of the sea along the wharf, but she felt herself unwinding in a way she hadn’t felt in a _long_ time. Beside her Zell seemed supremely satisfied, bouncing his knees a little and jiggling his line in time to some unheard beat. He remained oblivious to the heat though his skin glowed with a fine sheen of sweat, and she took a moment from the water to study his profile, thinking that even he was maturing, slowly and surely, beyond the messes they had been after Ultimecia.

Despite his verbosity and his excess of energy he seemed to have a sensitivity she hadn’t realized until now. She felt as if she had undersold him by taking him at face value, and wondered if she had cheated herself out of a closer friendship because of her arrogance and need to compartmentalize everyone around her with neat little labels. Squall the insistent loner. Irvine the incorrigible flirt. Selphie the overeager enthusiast. Rinoa the bleeding heart.

Zell the impatient fool.

Quistis felt shame flood her.

“What kind of things can you catch here?” she asked uncomfortably, seeking to brush away her guilt by asking the first question that came to mind. Truthfully she knew every marine creature that existed in the Balamb waters, edible, dangerous, or otherwise.

Adjusting his rod to free his hand, Zell scratched his chin and looked thoughtful.

“Lots,” he offered with a sheepish smile that she only caught the corner of, “Gramps told me but I always forget. If it don’t bite, I don’t care.”

He laughed, unrepentant for his lack of knowledge, and Quistis struggled to align that with her own rigid need to know everything possible in case the required situation arrived. She looked Zell over again, trying to figure him out and fit him back into the neat little boxes of her mind. The truth was she didn’t know enough about him to know where to place him anymore. They had never been particularly close during battle. Blood, gore and fear of death had kept her mostly internal, and Zell had always been so young that she could not discuss her fears with him, instead turning to Squall (and failing miserably) or Rinoa who had seemed more mature. As his instructor she had been impressed by Zell’s physical aptitude and dismayed by his intellectual ineptitude. If he had applied himself, he could have been satisfactory, but he had been far more interested in doodling explosions in the margins of his book and trying to get his pencils to stick point first into the ceiling. Truthfully, she had not paid him much attention while he was under her tutelage, her hands being full with her evaluation, her uncomfortable fledgling crush on the sullen and embarrassingly disinterested Squall, and running constant interference with a feuding Almasy and Leonhart. It had been a poor time for her.

She wondered what he had been thinking, dragged into that war without any conscious decision. She knew he often just did things because they were right or didn’t because they were wrong. His motivations for sticking so loyally to Squall after the ball began to roll were a mystery to her even after all these years. She honestly had no idea what made Zell tick.

As if he sensed her clinical gaze he turned to her, and instead of his usual ferocious grin, his face bloomed into a slow, sweet and _utterly_ attractive smile.

Quistis blinked once, and something inside of her trembled at the openness; timid, sharp and clear; surprising her and scattering her train of thought. She narrowed her eyes, trying to realign her misfiring thought processes but he didn’t seem bothered.

Looking at him now, she could see that he was attractive in a boyish way, she noted; different from the classic handsomeness of Irvine, the bad boy image of Seifer, or even Squall’s mildly androgynous beauty, but she was far more comfortable never having noticed it before. Firmly, she shoved her odd thoughts away and dragged her eyes back to the water. There were other things to look at. Safer and less complicated things.

“Do you,” she swallowed, firmly dismissing the sensation as she tried to get back on track, “do you want many children?”

How was that _safer?_

“’Course,” he shrugged, oblivious to her sudden, awkward turmoil, “there’s got to be a little Zell or two runnin’ around for the next generation, right? Who else can take on the little Almasy?”

He threw a punch and nearly lost his fishing rod in the process. He caught it clumsily and flushed red, slowly beginning to reel in his line.

“What about you? Ain’t you havin’ kids?” he asked.

Quistis pondered it, trying to imagine herself huge and tired and pregnant but found it too difficult to see even in the shelter of her own mind.

“I don’t know,” she said cautiously, glancing at him, “I’ve never really given it much thought.”

“Quisty! You got to have kids! Who else is goin’ to keep mine in line?” he laughed happily, apparently giving up on catching fish after he reeled it in because he threw his rod carelessly onto the dock and gave her his full attention.

“Probably their mother,” she replied dryly, turning back to sea and pointedly holding onto her rod.

She could feel his eyes on her face and self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear.

“If they got one,” he said matter-of-factly. “I want to adopt, see? I got a good shot when Ma adopted me. I want to give some little guy a chance too!”

Quistis’ mood curdled slightly when she thought of her own adoption and the cold, barren house she’d lived in for those long, empty years. They had wanted a doll, not a daughter and in many ways she had delivered. She’d striven hard for perfection, had been pretty and smart and polite and had escaped as quickly as she could to Balamb Garden where she thought she would be free to breath. Of course, it hadn’t done her much good, had it? She’d learned her lessons too well… Separated from her peers by intellect, separated from her friends by her own handmade stone walls.

She glanced at Zell, who was still watching her, and wondered what it was about him and this entire situation that made her so introspective.

“Don’t be sad, Quisty,” he said, peering at her.

She blinked at him, wondering what about her face had given her away. She’d thought herself rather adept at hiding the majority of her emotions when she wanted to. Apparently she was slipping. She’d have to be careful next time she played Triple Triad.

“I’m not sad,” she murmured, setting her own rod down and placing her hands in her lap.

“Then I ain’t dumb,” he grinned.

Quistis startled, frowning at him again as shame prodded her. Hadn’t she dismissed him as hopeless?

“Zell,” she said firmly, aware that she was using her teaching voice but hapless to change it, “you are not dumb.”

“Quisty,” he chuckled, “I ain’t exactly winnin’ medals in the brain department. It’s why I punch and kick things that get in my way! I don’t know how to do anythin’ else.”

And he was laughing un-selfconsciously, having come to terms with his lack of the intellectual long ago. Quistis however, felt a fierce anger burning through her as she listened to his self-deprecating view of himself, no matter how comfortable he’d become with it. He had never been a top student but he was far from stupid, he merely lacked focus. She’d _taught_ him. She _knew_.

“Zell,” she snapped, and he turned surprised eyes to her own at the muted fury in her voice. “Martial artistry was the discipline you showed the most aptitude for when you entered Garden, but you continued to master it because you _chose_ that path, not because there was nothing else you could have done. You used your _intelligence_ to recognize and accept your strengths _and_ your weaknesses. That takes maturity, sense and dedication. Stop selling yourself short.”

Gawking at her nervously, Zell scratched his cheek with a bare hand before offering her a surprised, pleased smile. He seemed to think hard for a moment, and never one for immobility, dragged his feet towards him and yanked off his sneakers before tossing them carelessly behind him.

“I never looked at it like that,” he said, glancing at her happily. “Thanks Quisty!”

Buoyed by her compliments, Zell flopped backwards against the wooden planks, turning slightly so he could hang his feet off the edge into the cold water. He closed his eyes against the sun, pillowing his head with his arms. He opened them again momentarily, squinting up at her as she looked down at him. His eyes were a startling blue in the bright light.

Awareness sparked through her once again and she studied him as objectively as possible while something inside of her panged that she forcefully subdued.

“You know,” he sighed as he gazed back up at her, “before, we never got to talk much, you and me.”

“No,” she murmured, “I don’t suppose we did.”

For a long time silence reigned over them, and as the sun reached its zenith Quistis made a decision. After all, she was sitting in the summer sun in the middle of a lovely day with somebody she considered a friend. Appearances couldn’t matter all the time. Right? Nodding to herself decisively, she reached up to her shoulder and carefully unrolled her leather gloves, mouth thinning in distaste at the scent of her sweat and body wash. She uncurled her legs and bent forward, neatly tugging off her high leather boots and socks and setting them aside. After a moment of indecision, she undid the thick belt that hung off of her waist, adding it to the pile.

Wary of Zell’s penchant for mischief, she leaned over the edge of the low dock, scooping up some of the refreshing water and washing the sweat off of her arms and legs. The breeze picked up, sending goose bumps shivering over her skin and she sighed, surprised and delighted at the relief.

They sat like that for a moment, Quistis keeping her eyes riveted on the sea. She was aware of Zell beside her, so happy and sloppy and careless. Her own life seemed so grey beside his color and suddenly she coveted it, that haphazard joy. She bit her lip and decided to bend her own rules with no small resistance.

Slowly, uneasily, Quistis stretched herself out beside the other blonde, mimicking his position. They ended up in a strange L, the length of her body on the dock while his calves continued to hang off the side, their heads so close her elbow touched his forearm. It was… comfortable. Releasing a nervous breath, Quistis narrowed her eyes against the brightness and let herself enjoy the sensation and the sea.

The breeze washed over them, catching the long strands of her loose bangs and tangling them in his spiky hair. He laughed, light and easy, letting the buttery threads drift over his face before moving them away. She stiffened slightly, finding the gesture unexpectedly intimate and making her very aware of the awkward shifting in her chest when she felt his fingers slipping through the tresses and moving them from his eyes.

Her throat tightened, uncertain, but before she could pull her hair away he began to speak, the friendly warmth of his voice soothing her nerves and bringing an ache of something indescribably naked with it. She was lonely. It hurt that even his platonic, relaxed touch affected her so, but it was beautiful out here in the summer sun, with nothing to grade, no monsters to fight, no students to corral. It was peaceful, and she hadn’t felt peace in some time.

“I’m glad we came today, Quisty,” he said, yawning sleepily as the sun sank into his skin.

The wind continued to sweep over the two, the waves kept washing, and in the distance she could hear the fishermen’s laughter. The nervousness inside of her eased, filling her with shy, tentative warmth.

“So am I,” she said honestly, drowsily, the pang inside spreading outwards.

\--


	4. Chapter 4

They returned to Garden as the sun was setting, daubs of orange and pink melting into velvety purple as evening smoothed over the sky. They hadn’t caught any fish but Quistis didn’t mind at all. It had been the most carefree, pleasant day she’d had in a very long time and even though she’d started off fighting it, she’d never before been so grateful to lose.

She firmly resisted the urge to name whatever Zell had awoken inside of her today with his boyish, easy smiles and lighthearted mind-set, and at the back of her psyche she knew all about his poorer qualities; the impatience, the naivety, the irresponsibility and the pent up frustration… But she recognized that she had missed points somewhere in the understanding of her friend, and today made her realize that perhaps it was worth going back to find the steps she had overlooked.

Zell, on the other hand, was disappointed that they hadn’t caught anything. He felt like he had failed Quistis. He knew that she didn’t kick back and relax too often (she was way too strict on herself!) and all he’d done was drag her out and waste her time! Still, glancing at her now as she drove them home, he realized she didn’t seem too broken up about it. She looked kind of peaceful actually, and real pretty with the sunset making her hair a glossy orange while that tiny little smile softened her lips.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, sounding much more comfortable then she had that morning.

“Your mouth,” he blurted absently, bolting upright and smacking himself upside the head when he realized how wrong that had come out.

Quistis, surprisingly, didn’t look like she was about to reach for the Save the Queen. She merely turned and looked at him for a moment, her blue eyes reflecting the peach and plum hues of the dimming sun before dropping momentarily to his lips. Zell swallowed, stomach flipping wildly as she focused on him, looking for something in his face before turning back to the road.

When she looked away, he felt as if he’d been booted right in the chest and he released the breath he’d been holding and laughed nervously to himself.

That was _weird_. But it couldn’t have been what he thought it might have been because what he thought it might have been couldn’t have been. Right?

Glancing sidelong at his unaffected friend again, Zell couldn’t help but feel the old familiar awe swell up in his mind. She was so poised and collected and grown up; nothing ever seemed to ruffle her feathers, especially him acting like a total freaking idiot. Cool as ice Quistis Trepe… But for a moment there, she’d looked soft and girly and he’d seen something he couldn’t figure out in her face. It had looked like a challenge.

He laughed again, rubbing the back of his head, cracking his knuckles, before turning to look out relative safety of the window.

The parking garage was empty when they pulled in and Quistis stepped out and carefully locked the car behind her after making sure Zell had locked his door as well.

“I am so hungry I could eat a behemoth!” he moaned, stretching back so that his shirt pulled up and exposed a narrow strip of tanned abdomen. He rubbed his hard stomach with one hand. “But I bet those guys taste gross.”

Quistis, catching sight of the defined musculature of his lower abdominals and hip bones, flushed and glanced away. He was a fist fighter, of course he would be in peak physical condition. Of course his body would be nothing but thick, tight muscle. That wasn’t something she needed to be aware of. Certainly not at this particular moment.

“The cafeteria is still open,” she murmured, looking again at his exposed skin despite herself. Had he always been so _big_? No, his shoulders had broadened since their adventure together. He had filled out considerably and she had no business noticing the breadth of his shoulders.

“Hey yea! You comin’?” he grinned, planting one palm on the hood of the car and vaulting over it in a characteristically unnecessary show of physical prowess. He wasn’t showing off, Zell just didn’t know any other way. He jogged in front of Quistis for a moment, his thoughts already on the challenge of acquiring a potential hot dog and seeing that little brown ponytail and maybe even getting a bacon double cheeseburger or three.

“No, I have things I need to take care of,” Quistis said, shifting nervously away from the other blonde.

Zell stilled. “Oh, I getcha,” he said. He felt kind of rejected, but he should have realized Quistis would be sick of him by now. Besides, he wanted to go and find Irvine and maybe talk a little about that weird look she’d given him. He thought he might be crazy.

Brushing past him, Quistis began to walk towards the entry, her shoulders already tensing and her mind moving back towards its usual analytical, organized patterns. Today had felt good, she knew, thoughts drifting lazily backwards, and perhaps she should thank Zell. She wanted to make him understand how grateful she was that he had taken such time for her. She stopped and turned around to find Zell where she had left him a few steps back, gaping at his shoes, apparently. Had she offended him somehow? She walked back and stood beside him, waiting until he snapped out of whatever daze he’d fallen into. He startled, swinging around and opening his mouth to say something, but for once somebody beat him to the punch.

“I’d like to do it again,” she blurted, surprising herself. “Fish. With you, I mean.”

That slow, boyish smile swept over his face again, all straight white teeth and soft blue eyes, and Quistis felt heat creeping into her cheeks. Nobody should have a smile that just weakened your knees like that. It was a weapon.

“Awesome!” he crowed, “let’s totally do it! In a few days, okay?”

“Yes,” she said stiffly, unnerved by her own reaction to him. He was so goofy and childish and unaware, and here she was eyeing up his body and getting excited over his silly grins. She nodded once more, about faced, and strode away with as much dignity as she could summon. Admittedly an adequate amount.

\--

Quistis wasn’t surprised by the knock on her door that evening, knowing that unless there was an emergency meeting of the Garden Committee or the ever-shadowing Irvine managed to spirit her away, Selphie would show up as promised. She opened her door to see the girl’s beaming face and the dark hair of Rinoa beside her.

"You survived!" she cried happily. 

“And so did he,” Rinoa said, waving at Quistis. “I saw him in the cafeteria earlier shoveling everything in reach down his throat.”

“How’d it go Quisty! Was it catastrophic? You both must have been ready to throttle yourselves by the end of the day, ” Selphie sighed over-dramatically, hugging herself.

“It was fine,” Quistis commented cautiously, shutting the door behind them. She was loath to tell them anything they might misconstrue.

Selphie threw herself onto the small couch by the wall, clapping her hands excitedly while she took a good look at the blonde.

“Look at you! You’re glowing, Quisty!” she bubbled.

“Yea,” Rinoa grinned, “you’ve got a bit of color in your face!”

Quistis arched a brow, “Spending time in the sun will have that effect.”

Truth be told, she could feel the light heat of a sunburn on her cheeks, as was the curse of all those with fair skin in good weather.

“That’s so good!” Selphie squealed. “Did you catch a fish?”

Taking a seat in the armchair and crossing her legs, the teacher sighed. “I’m afraid not.”

Rinoa, sitting beside Selphie, leaned forward and got straight to the point. “How was it? Did Zell drive you crazy? We were all kind of worried you two wouldn’t be speaking by the time you got back.”

Quistis frowned inside, wondering if they all truly thought she was some kind of ogre and Zell nothing but a hyperactive moron. She knew she was rather regimented, to put it blandly, but why did they all think she was so cold? Her mind drifted back to the warmth that had pooled in her stomach on the dock, or the blaze of heat that had scorched her in the car on the way back to Garden. She couldn’t afford an attraction to Zell Dincht when she was just starting to look into her life and figure out what had gone so wrong. Emotions like that were messy, unpredictable, hazardous. And, if her ill fated crush on Squall was anything to go by, feelings for friends inevitably ended in total humiliation.

The mercenary in her was taught to recognize danger, so where had her training been today?

“Zell and I,” she said, hesitating, “have our differences, but in the end we’re friends.”

Selphie snorted, throwing herself backwards against the cushions. “So are Squally and me! That doesn’t mean I want to spend all my time moping around glaring at walls or raging at the sky or whatever it is he does for fun!”

Rinoa shot her a sharp look, and Selphie squeaked apologetically.

Quistis was quickly becoming tired of their conversation. All she wanted to do was sit down, go over the day in her mind, and try to figure out why she had enjoyed it so much. Was it her? Was it him? Would it have gone the same way if it had been Irvine on that dock smiling at her? Confused and aggravated by the answers that were not coming forward, Quistis focused on her friends and tried to close the subject.

“Look, I hadn’t realized Zell had grown so…” she searched carefully for the right word while the two girls watched her with sudden interest.

“Perceptive,” she concluded lamely.

“Zell? Our Zell?” Rinoa asked curiously.

“Is there any other?” Selphie giggled, nudging Rinoa with her elbow. “If there were more than one Zell there’d be like, a hundred more holes in the Training Center bridge!”

“That was _him?_ ” Quistis asked sharply, eyes narrowing. “Nobody came forward when I asked around! Sections of the centre were inaccessible for a week while we brought in somebody to replace nearly half the grids and railings!”

Selphie laughed. “He was totally freaking out, too! He nearly broke his neck jumping over the gap and then he spent over an hour looking around to make sure nobody had gotten stuck on the other side so he missed all the hot dogs at lunch again!”

Rinoa snorted, standing up. “Well, that sort of thing wouldn’t happen if he watched where he threw those concrete blocks he calls fists!”

“Aw, Zelly just gets caught up in the moment,” Selphie sighed fondly, still chuckling.

“True,” Rinoa smiled, her huff of temper dissipating as quickly as it had come. “That’s why he keeps making a total jackass out of himself whenever he gets close to his little Library Girl.”

Quistis’ tiny bubble burst at the mention of Zell’s crush. She felt not just a little relieved to be reminded that things were already out of her hands. She’d forgotten about Library Girl. Even if she had spent the day finding out new things about Zell it was a rather hopeless cause to begin with. She marveled mildly at herself, wondering at the difference a day made. Last night she would have been in hysterics if somebody had suggested she find Zell Dincht appealing. Tonight, she wasn’t so sure he wasn’t. She was going to keep her second potential Zell venture a secret from these two, however. She didn’t want them reading too much into it and she wasn’t even sure it was going to happen. Zell got distracted easily.

“Are you satisfied, ladies?” she asked drolly, standing up. “Relaxing for the day went unexpectedly well and neither of us lost our minds _or_ our limbs.”

Selphie launched herself off of the couch, heading cheerfully towards the door while Rinoa followed glumly behind.

“This means I owe Irvine ten bucks!” the dark haired woman moaned, and Quistis only rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind them with a short wave.

It was time to go to sleep and forget all the nonsense of the day before she opened more doors than she was comfortable exploring.

\--

Zell shadowboxed in front of Squall’s office for a good ten minutes before the secretary politely asked him to stop, eyeing the carefully tended plant he was getting perilously close to. The martial artist sighed, shoulders drooping, and hurried over to her desk.

“Uh, did Squally –“

She shot him a stunned look.

“I mean, Commander Leonhart! Did he say what he needed me for?” Zell asked eagerly, crossing his fingers that this was his shot at one of the really important missions.

The secretary glanced down at her paperwork for a moment, and then shook her head.

“There’s nothing noted here, Mr. Dincht. I’m sure he-“

At that moment, Squall opened his door, wordlessly gesturing for Zell to come inside. Shooting the girl a grateful smile, Zell jogged into the office, slamming the door behind him.

“Hey Squally!” he said, throwing himself back into one of the comfy chairs set in front of the Commander’s desk and kicking his feet.

“Good to see you, Zell,” Squall replied, taking a seat.

“So what’s this all about?” Zell leaned forward eagerly. “Got a new assignment for me? ‘Cause I am so ready!”

Squall looked at him and shook his head.

“No,” he said flatly, “I want to know how things went today with Quistis.”

“Huh?” Zell asked after a long moment, desperately trying to stow his disappointment away to mope over later. He never got a chance! His thoughts brightened considerably at the thought of Quistis though. Who knew he’d end up having such a good time with her?

“Quistis. Fishing,” Squall sighed wearily, deciding to tell Zell a bit of the truth. “She’s been under a lot of stress lately and it was starting to show. That’s how this whole… thing… came about.”

Zell scoffed disbelievingly at the thought of a less than perfect Quistis. “What? She forgot to dot an ‘i’ or somethin’? Cut her a break, man!”

Mouth thinning with impatience, Squall pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s just it, Zell. She’s almost robotic. Every day, in and out, she just goes through the motions. It isn’t healthy.”

Zell eyed him doubtfully, gnawing on his knuckle for a moment. He pointed at his commanding officer. “Rinoa put you up to this?”

Squall looked away guiltily. “She directed my attention to it, yes. But it was something I should have noticed long before now.”

He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.

“Quistis is…” he sighed, speaking as though he was reciting from a book. “Quistis is our friend. We have to watch out for one another after all we’ve gone through together.”

Zell resisted the urge to tease Squall for getting so girly on him, figuring he didn’t really want to explain a gunblade wound to Doctor Kadowaki. On the other hand, chicks really seemed to dig scars. After Squall and Seifer had battled it out and sliced up each other faces, girl’s had started making more moon eyes at the both of them than usual. Hyne, even Quistis had wanted a piece of Squall’s angsty action!

Zell started to get excited at the prospect of some fearsome dramatic scar, and he was busy picturing himself explaining how he’d been wounded in an epic battle to a wide-eyed, swooning Library Girl when Squall’s voice called him momentarily back to reality.

“What about Quistis?” the Commander asked, annoyed.

Good question, Zell mused, imagining explaining his scar to _her_ , wondering if maybe she’d get that intense look in her eye like she had in the car. Only in his imaginings, instead of staring at him in awe like Library Girl, Quistis was cocking her eyebrow at him that way she did, and maybe –

“Zell!” Squall barked.

“Whoa!” Zell jumped, turning scarlet with embarrassment and frantically trying to recall if he’d spoken out loud. “I didn’t touch her!”

Squall leaned back in his chair, completely unable to deal with Zell for long. His temper thinned.

“Like she’d ever let you,” he snapped, ignoring the thunderous scowl that immediately passed over the other man’s face. “Look, just tell me exactly how it went.”

“Sure,” Zell spat, lunging out of his seat and pacing around in front of the other man, “she drove.”

_And promised I’d get to drive next time._

“We stopped by Ma’s house.”

_And Ma thought she was my girlfriend._

“We sat on the dock for a couple hours.”

_And her hair got in my face and smelled like honey or somethin’, and she didn’t pull away when her arm touched mine and her bare skin is smooth like silk._

“Then we came back before dark.”

_And she looked at me in the car like… fuck, I dunno, truth or dare! Skydiving! That time I nearly rode my T-board off that cliff!_

Squall sighed, looking frustrated. It had been risky forcing Quistis out of the classroom to begin with. He wasn’t sure he wanted to try it again. He felt stupid for pinning his hopes on Zell. The two were total contrasts and had probably bickered away the whole day. He looked up at the still frantically pacing blonde, noting the tenseness of his shoulders and the anger on his face. Everybody knew Zell had a short fuse, but what in hyne had set him off this time?

“What’s your problem?” Squall asked, finding the thread of his own temper getting more frayed by the minute.

Zell halted abruptly, pivoting on his heel and pointing a finger at his friend.

“I ain’t talkin’ to Commander Leonhart right now! I wanna talk to Squall!” he yelled.

“Fine,” Squall snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Talk.”

Zell began pacing again, punching his palm with each turn.

“Pretty boy hair and fancy scars ain’t everythin’! I ain’t a troll or nothin’! Plenty a girls like me, man!”

Though he could only name Library Girl off the top of his head. He caught another punch in his opposite hand. His formidable temper was getting away from him along with his mouth, but he found that he couldn’t shut up. Unfortunately, for once Squall was listening to what he had to say.

“And why don’t I get any good missions? You only send me on bullshit stuff that our fuckin’ cadets could handle! I fought right beside you durin’ the Sorceress War Squally, so why ain’t my best good enough for you now?”

Zell stopped in front of Squall’s desk, thrumming with angry tension and a bit of worry. Squall didn’t seem about to lunge over the desk, slash him up and then shoot the pieces though. He took that as a good sign.

“Do you want an answer from Squall or Commander Leonhart?” he asked sarcastically. “Though I can tell you right now they’re both saying the same thing.”

“Just fuckin’ get it over with, man,” Zell muttered fatalistically, running his hands through his hair and dumping his body back into the chair.

Squall nodded, standing. “I don’t assign you any of the important missions because I don’t trust you not to screw them up. You’re hot headed, loud, unthinking and totally inept when it comes to the smallest use of discretion. I don’t care how hard you could throw a punch against Omega Weapon, unless a crucial mission comes in asking for somebody to bash in a wall or do a back flip, I’m assigning it to a leader mature enough and capable enough to handle it.”

Zell visibly deflated, sinking as low into the chair as he could. Squall’s tirade had been rather merciless, not out of cruelty but out of a heavy-handed type of kindness. He figured Zell needed to get his head out of the clouds and hear this. Maybe that way he would work harder for the things he said he wanted.

“As for the rest, why does it matter about my hair?” he scoffed. “I’m done explaining myself to you. Get over it and get out.”

Zell shoved himself out of the seat, feeling furious and disappointed and damn hurt. Friends didn’t say shit like that to each other!

“You know, man,” he snorted, stomping his way out, “you’re a real dick.”

Squall’s temper flared as the very angry blonde punched his wall on the way out, leaving a rather large sized hollow, but he drew in a deep breath and released it carefully. He would have a very hard time explaining to the funding allocation committee when he called in for repairs why there was yet _another_ Dincht sized hole in the wall.


	5. Chapter 5

Quistis was becoming irritated. She had awoken in no different a state of mind then she’d gone to sleep and had floundered for an entire hour trying to find something to do. She wasn’t used to so much free time and the thought of the entire day ahead with no schedule, no curriculum, gave her such a headache that she contemplated hunting Selphie down and asking if she could help with the next Garden festival. Usually she woke up to the shrill beep of her alarm, showered, dressed, ate her breakfast, reviewed her schedule and then went to class. When classes were over she graded paperwork until dinner and after dinner spent an hour in the Training Center before returning to her room, washing up, finishing her grading and finally going to bed.

It may not have been the most exciting schedule, but it kept her busy.

Today she’d woken up, tried to fall back asleep, failed miserable, gotten up, made coffee, read a bit, and then nearly worn a hole in her carpet pacing until an hour had passed.

_This is hopeless,_ she thought _, not to mention pathetic._

She showered carefully, brushed out her hair, fixed it up and then took out her standard SeeD uniform before picturing the annoyed look on Squall’s face if he saw her in it. She contemplated another set of her battle gear and her basic SeeD uniform with little enthusiasm. What did people usually wear when they were at work but weren’t working, she wondered wearily.

Finally, she took out the regular knee length skirt and sleeveless, collared top of her battle gear, slipping them on but leaving the gloves and boots behind. It would be much too hot for them anyway, she reassured herself. She fiddled pensively with the silver charms dangling from the waist of her skirt, trying to figure out an option for footwear. The boots she usually wore with her SeeD uniforms were calf length and black leather besides and had already proven themselves just as hot as her knee high boots.

Dropping to her knees, she began to search through the rather sparse assortment of boxes neatly stacked on the bottom of the closet, finding a pair of seldom worn heels, a set of beat up rain boots and a pair of open toed black flats. She sighed, taking out the flats and slipping them on, frowning at the small peek of her toes they displayed. She wasn’t very daring at all, was she? The most skin she ever showed was a bit of bellybutton and that wasn’t a matter of choice, her gear had come like that and she had never seen the point of changing it after the war. After she put on her glasses she decided she had done all she could do there and headed out the door to find some breakfast.

The cafeteria was crowded but after she grabbed another cup of coffee and a bowl of yogurt she spotted Rinoa’s dark hair at one of the tables and headed towards her.

“Hey,” the other woman smiled, staring with interest at her modified outfit. “Morning sunshine!”

Quistis nodded awkwardly in greeting, sitting down and busying herself opening her yogurt. She told herself she wasn’t trying to hide her shoes beneath her chair.

“Where is everyone?” Quistis asked, glancing around her.

Rinoa took a bite of her toast, sighing and rolling her eyes. “Selphie is on this harebrained mission to petition for new monsters in the Training Center and Irvine is probably trailing after her picking up the pieces. As for Squall, he’s off sulking in his office commanding things and acting like a jerk. He and Zell got into a big fight last night so he’s busy telling himself he doesn’t care while Zell is probably off somewhere hitting things.”

“What’d they fight about this time?” Quistis rolled her eyes.

Rinoa shrugged, slathering more honey on her bread. “You know them. Zell got mad so Squall got mad. Zell ran his mouth off so Squall shot him down. He wouldn’t really tell me the whole story which means Squall probably said something he regrets.”

Sighing, Quistis lifted her coffee mug to her lips, ignoring the uncertain butterflies in her stomach. She had hoped that sleep would cure her of the odd interest she was developing for the loudmouthed blonde but apparently it had not. She also knew how harsh and blunt Squall could be and how sensitive Zell was to criticism.

“They’re both rather touchy,” she commented absently.

Rinoa nodded. “Tell me about it.”

She studied Quistis for a moment, pleased to see her looking better then she had in a long time. Instead of the curt, tense blankness they’d all grown accustomed to seeing on her face she looked rather relaxed and just a bit uneasy. Plus she was doing the sensible thing for once during this awful heat wave and was showing a little skin instead of wearing that stuffy SeeD uniform!

“You look really nice today, Quistis,” she said, smiling.

Blue eyes focused, glancing at the brunette and chuckling wryly. “Rinoa, I wear this all the time.”

“I know,” she said, “but you’re always covered from head to heel, you know? You just look a bit more comfortable today.”

“Oh, well,” Quistis said, blushing awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Swiping at a smear of gooey honey trickling down her chin, Rinoa waved her off. “Don’t thank me, I’m about to abandon you! I’m going to bring Squall up some breakfast, otherwise he won’t get around to eating and will be even grouchier by lunch.”

The brunette grabbed her empty plate and stood, tilting her head to the side and contemplating Quistis again.

“I meant it when I said you look good. You ought to take more weekends off.”

Smiling, Quistis said nothing, returning to her coffee and her yogurt. She truly hadn’t realized her friends were so concerned for her. She hadn’t even noticed when she’d stopped taking weekends off, to be honest. Work had just become more and more important as the days went by, blocking out everything else.

When had she crossed the line from professional to workaholic?

_Lacks leadership qualities alright,_ she thought sourly. _I can’t even lead myself without getting lost._

She finished her breakfast, and tapped her fingers against the table, trying to pinpoint when her life had grown so bare.

\--

Quistis told herself she wasn’t seeking him out, she was merely walking around the school trying to find something to occupy her time. It was rather tedious and depressing trying to figure out what exactly how she was going to spend the day, while at the same time telling herself she had no interest in looking for Zell.

She tried hunting down Selphie and Irvine on the second floor, (and couldn’t resist stopping by her classroom to make sure everything was okay) but all she could find was a trail of bright, loud posters with awful slogans from Selphie’s unfathomable mind.

_Got muscles to flex? Ask for more than T-rex!_

_We need more to combat than the same old grat!_

_Tougher foe than Granaldo!_

While Quistis agreed with the sentiment, she couldn’t help the small snort of dismayed laughter that escaped her upon spying a lurid pink poster that read: _Grats putting you to sleep? Sign now!_ It sounded like a cheap insurance ad. She wondered how far the energetic girl would get before Squall glared her into submission. Then again, was it really such a bad idea to bring a better variety of monsters in to help hone the cadets fledgling fighting skills?

Shaking her head, Quistis decided to abandon her search for those two and continued down the garishly decorated corridor towards the elevator. Several of her students greeted her warmly, and a few ogled her as she hurried past, reminding her of the fact that she had a rather avid fan club. By the time the doors shut, leaving her alone, she felt naked. It couldn’t be so strange to see her arms and legs. Selphie pranced around the halls in her tiny yellow dress all the time; her own body couldn’t be that novel.

Stepping out onto the first floor, she hesitated before turning in the direction of the library. If nothing else, she could find a nice book to read and perhaps a bit of shade in one of the courtyards to enjoy. And that was all, right? Nothing else. Stepping into the hush, she allowed her gaze to sweep over the small collection of chairs and desks near the front but spotted nobody she knew. She wandered further inside and through the bookcases, passing a few glances over familiar sections and titles but finding nothing to catch her eye.

Reaching the back, she caught sight of a familiar shock of blonde hair and halted indecisively.

_This is what I came here for though, no sense lying to myself even more._

She wanted to stop to say hello and if nothing else make sure he was still all right after arguing with the often overly scornful Squall. She crossed her arms slightly, tapping her index fingers against her elbows as she thought. Zell was leaning back in his chair, one arm dropped towards the floor, the other holding a heavy red book above his head. He didn’t appear to be reading it, but he was making it pretty obvious that he had the book in his hand. The librarians would kick out anyone not reading, studying or otherwise working if they caught you, and Zell was most likely lurking for a _very_ particular reason.

Sighing to herself, she glanced around for Library Girl but didn’t see her in sight. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her skirt as she approached him.

“Good read?” she asked, and when his bright blue eyes fell on her and that slow, toothy smile spread over his face, she told herself that her stomach did not, by any stretch of the imagination, flip.

For his part, Zell was surprised and happy to see Quistis so soon. He didn’t see her much outside of dinner and even then they hardly said two words to each other. Maybe yesterday had gone better than he’d thought! As far as he could remember he’d never run into her here at the library before. She’d probably memorized every book in the place!

After his fight with Squall, he’d headed to his room and beat on his punching bag until he felt better. He’d tried to think on what his Commander had told him and had eventually come to the conclusion that sure, Squall was a dick, but he was a dick with a point. So he had decided that all he had to do to win Squall’s respect was fix everything he had said needed fixing.

Easy as one, two, three! He’d show Squally how _capable_ and _quiet_ and _discreet_ he really was!

Quistis however, was another matter. He figured he could just write off whatever weird vibe he had been getting from her as too much sun. He’d had fun hanging out with her though and he was glad to see that she had lightened up a bit if the healthy color in her face told him anything.

_I must’ve worried for nothin’_ , he realized with relief.

“Quisty!” he greeted her loudly and was promptly shushed by one of the other library workers.

He glared at the boy who cowered slightly, dropping the legs of his chair back to the floor. He twisted in his seat, grinning at her, and Quistis breathed a sigh of relief because he seemed completely normal. Her eyes fell on the cover of the book he was in the process of not reading, her eyes widening when she caught sight of the title.

Amatory Artistry: Modern critiques on the controversial artwork of Veros Carnilla

“Zell!” she gasped, her teacher voice automatically coming into play. “What do you think you’re reading?

Confused, he glanced down. “Uh, a book?”

Quistis couldn’t help but scoff as she swiftly took a seat in the chair beside him. He twisted towards her as she sat.

“Have you even glanced at a page, Zell?” she asked, exasperated. “That book is nothing more than not so carefully disguised pornography.”

“For real?!” he asked, cheeks burning red. He threw the book onto the desk as if it had suddenly grown teeth. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then snatched it up again and began rapidly skimming through the pages.

“Zell!” Quistis sighed, and with a teasing grin he tossed it back down.

“Kiddin’! I swear I didn’t know! I just grabbed it ‘cause I wanted, uh…”

He stopped himself, not really interested in talking to Quisty about Library Girl. He felt rather stupid but that was nothing new. It sucked that Quisty was the one to call him on his latest screw up though. He never would have guessed the librarians were such perverts!

“Aw, man,” he sighed, “how come I always make an ass outta myself?!”

A sudden thought crossed his mind and he grinned.

“And how come you know all about this book, Quisty?” he needled.

Quisty arched a delicate brow and kept her head high. “I’ve read nearly every book on these shelves. Some were less informative than others.”

“Or maybe more, eh?” he ribbed her, chuckling.

He leaned back again, stretching his arms up and linking his fingers behind his head.

“Tell me what’s so bad about that Virus guy. I don’t remember learnin’ ‘bout him in your class.”

“That’s Veros. He was a Galbadian artist who made a living out of extremely… explicit paintings. They called him Carnal Carnilla, and that just about sums up why he wasn’t standard curriculum material.”

She eyed him, smirking. “You know, you could actually _read_ the book if you’re interested in learning about him.”

Zell grinned like a shark, “maybe if there were pictures.”

Quistis rolled her eyes, deciding it was best not to continue talking about such a loaded subject. Talking about sex was making her much too aware of the musculature of his arms and the way his SeeD uniform clung to his broad chest. He was shorter than her and she’d always preferred taller men but she was having a lot of difficulty remembering quite why when he looked like he currently did and she hadn’t been intimate with anyone in a long time.

“Ah,” she cleared her throat, glancing at his face instead. That might have been no better an idea though as she was noticing all manner of things she hadn’t really noticed before, like the squarer line of his jaw or the length of his eyelashes. “I heard you argued with Squall.”

Zell’s face darkened, bright mood evaporating as he remembered why he had avoided the cafeteria that morning. He flopped forward, scrubbing a hand through his spiky hair and messing it up. He didn’t want to have to sit there listening to Rinoa try to fix everything between him and his _boss_.

“Why do we like him? Why did you _like_ him?” he asked abruptly, taken aback by his own question. He had meant to ask her why Squall always had such a stick shoved up his ass, but his mouth ran ahead of his brain and threw _that_ one out there. Hyne.

Quistis leaned back, startled by his vehemence, and shrugged her shoulders. “All girls fall for the dark and brooding type once or twice, I suppose.”

Zell threw himself forward, invading her space and snorting angrily. “Well, I ain’t that type a guy!”

“You don’t need to be,” Quistis replied smoothly.

“I can do more than a mission that asks for _bashin’_ _in_ _walls_ and _backflips_! Squally just won’t gimme a chance! He treats me like a little kid and I ain’t one! Just ‘cause Cid gave him his own stupid title, damn _Commander_ , he thinks he’s better than any of us! We were right there to, and yet he just sits there hoggin’ all the credit!”

Once again his mouth had run off without his brain, this time revealing his jealousy of the reserved, brooding Squall. He stood by what he said though! Squall just kept getting heaped with thanks and parades and statues while the rest of them sat back and clapped occasionally. It didn’t seem to matter that they’d been a team. Poster-boy-for-pretty-man-hair was the one people remembered. At the back of his mind he knew Squall hadn’t asked for the praise nor did he covet the attention but that didn’t heal the sting.

Quistis said nothing and he hung his head, trying to clear the angry red fog of his temper out of his mind, figuring he had gone too far and must have pissed her off pretty good. When she stood he wasn’t overly surprised, but she cleared her throat expectantly and waited for him to look up.

“Sorry, Quisty,” he muttered dejectedly, tilting his head up to meet her eyes.

He still felt like punching something, but she wasn’t angry like he thought she’d be. Instead, she looked thoughtful.

“Come with me,” she said.

“You ain’t mad?” he asked, surprised.

She looked confused for a second, and he wondered what he had said wrong, but she just shook her head and turned on her heel, striding from the library.

Nobody had to tell him twice, and he bounded after her, book forgotten on the desk much to the annoyance of the librarian who had shushed him earlier.

\--

Zell's smile didn’t last for very long. Five minutes later he was staring blankly at Quistis as she stood in one of the open areas of the Training Centre, tucking her glasses away and staring at him placidly with her whip in hand.

“We, uh, takin’ on some grats or somethin’?” he asked nervously, already afraid of the answer.

“No,” Quistis said calmly. “You were getting rather upset in the library and rather than cause a scene, I thought we might channel your anger into a bit of exercise for the both of us.”

Zell bounced slightly on his feet, shifting his weight back and forth. “We gotta take on these little chumps? Why don’t we go hunt down some Glacial Eyes or somethin’ cool in the forest?”

“Because,” she sighed airily, examining her fingers in a study of insolence designed to goad him, “the grats are not your opponent; I am.”

He blinked, but the fighter within him was already sizing her up.

“C’mon Quisty, I ain’t fightin’ you!” Zell laughed, holding up his hands.

They didn’t carry their stronger equipment on them unless they were out on missions; the damage they could do to Garden and its students was unspeakable, especially those of them with a penchant for losing their tempers. He kept his Ehrgeiz stuffed in his back pocket just in case but wore his Metal Knuckles, his Mavericks, or none at all when he was hanging around Balamb. He hoped to hyne that Quistis was the same because he didn’t really want to know what it felt like to get a snap of Save the Queen in the face. He took a hard, suspicious look at her weapon. Slaying Tail. The training rooms were magically reinforced to take a good amount of damage to, even from the elite. This could be fun. 

“Afraid you’ll lose?” she asked silkily, and her husky voice combined with the slinky little smirk on her face immediately fired up his blood.

He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to start cracking his knuckles and getting warmed up or just keep staring at her till she spoke like that again. She took the choice away from him though when she snapped her whip sharply against the floor.

“I ain’t afraid,” he grinned, “I just don’t wanna hurt you too bad.”

Quistis’s face was expressionless, the rhythmic whirl of her heavy whip the only sound in the air between them. Zell frowned in concentration and settled his feet firmly apart, raising his fists.

“This ain’t gonna get too serious though, right? No limit breaks or nothin’?” he questioned cagily.

Quistis arched a brow, knowing that if she answered he probably wouldn’t even try. She had goaded him a bit and that had seemed to work or at the very least distract him from his previous temper, but even than she knew he wouldn’t ever give her a hundred percent of what he could. He was a bit of a gentlemen that way and while she was grateful, she wasn’t nearly as kind. There were very few people in this world who posed a challenge to any of them anymore. It was rather invigorating to know she was facing one now. The playing field was for once rather even.

She slashed her arm forward, the sharp point of her whip striking uncomfortably close to his face in warning. Zell’s mouth fell open as a light stinging burned his cheek. She looked at him, provoking, settling into a languid stance and keeping the whip in constant, dangerous motion. She built up its velocity by swirling it quickly around her neck and waist in a series of fluid, rapid moves before striking out at him again.

Zell, uneasy with sparring so aggressively with a girl, let alone a friend, caught the brutal tip with his forearm, blood immediately spilling from the shallow cut. She was really cool twisting around her whip like it came natural to her, but she was mean!

“Quisty, Quisty, c’mon,” he cajoled, wincing.

She remained silent and he brought his fists up. When her arm flashed once again, he was ready, dodging the blow neatly and throwing a halfhearted kick at her.

“What if I hurt you, Quisty,” he groaned, dodging another strike of the heavy chain. She said nothing, a subtle flicking of her wrist wrapping the links tightly around his neck. Zell, unprepared, was sent sprawling forward when she jerked on her end. Another subtle movement and the whip released him. She continued to let it circle through the air, arching a brow as he rolled onto his back, coughing and glaring at her.

“I’m startin’ to think,” he muttered grimly, “that you ain't too worried about that.”

Face hardening, Zell stood and shook himself out. He cracked his knuckles again, shrugged his shoulders, and settled into a serious fighting stance. She had some advantage with her ranged weapon but he was an opponent quicker then most and when she struck at him again he dodged, darting in and landing a punch. She winced and he immediately felt contrite, but she retaliated by backing quickly away, putting more distance between them and slashing the pointed dart of her whip at his exposed skin as he followed. She lifted her chin, baiting him without words.

“Okay, time to show you what I’m made of!” he crowed, grinning.

The fighting began in earnest; Zell’s speed and ease of motion a harder opponent than she’d first assumed. She kept distance between them whenever she could, striking out at him with unerring accuracy but remaining susceptible to his retaliatory blows when she retracted her weapon and lost time. Quistis was both impressed and annoyed. Around and around the training center they went, the smart lesser creatures fleeing in the wake of their strength, but neither could get the upper hand over the other yet.

They were both sweating and and growing tired, Zell’s’ kicks and punches getting slower while Quistis lost some of her accuracy. She was sore, bruised, and he was bloody, but neither of them wanted to give in.

She studied his posture, trying to find a weak spot. Earlier she’d caught his ankle and yanked him off his feet but he’d rolled smoothly as she’d recoiled the whip, nearly knocking her down with a roundhouse. She was grateful he held back like the nice guy he was, else she would have ended up with broken bones.

She gracefully dodged a flurry of expertly thrown punches, losing ground as he gained momentum. Eyes narrowing, she made a last ditch attempt to immobilize him, driving him back with a series of fast cracks of her whip in the hopes of disconcerting him and giving herself space. When she saw the opportunity she coiled the chain links around her elbows and midsection, building force and snapping it forward towards his arms.

He outmaneuvered her though, much to her surprise, using blunt, brute might. Before the whip coiled fully around his arms he yanked hard, surprising her and sending her reeling towards him. She stumbled to her knees and before she could recover Zell struck her in the back with the side of his leg, tossing her fully forward and knocking some of the air from her lungs when she hit the ground. Quistis lay for a moment, catching her breath.

“I suppose,” she coughed lightly, rolling onto her back, “this means you win.”

Zell immediately ceased his victory dance.

“Aw, Quisty,” he mumbled, sticking out his hand to help her up. He still didn’t bother hiding his triumphant grin, but she stomached it with as much dignity as she could.

She took the helpful hand, wincing as he pulled her enthusiastically to her feet and reminded her of her new bruises. She wrapped up her chain whip and put it back at her waist, studying him with newfound admiration. She took out her glasses and slid them back on. She’d known how skilled he was, but had never supposed he would be so strong an opponent versus herself. Her ego, she conceded, had been properly knocked down a peg or two.

“I underestimated you,” she said, smiling at him widely.

Zell’s mouth fell open slightly and he blinked at that smile, his hand reaching behind him and rubbing his head. When she smiled like that he felt like a giddy moron. He was usually so careful with his hands and feet, his arms and legs. There was so much strength within them all, such power, that he was constantly aware of his own potential lethality. Untapped, his strength was impressive. Tapped, he was a giant stomping in a field of delicate flowers. All he could do was crush and the last thing he wanted was to hurt the people who trusted him.

But with Quistis he realized he could loosen up a little. She was just as tough and crazy mad powerful as he was. He wasn’t going to blow her to pieces if he breathed on her too hard and it felt good to stretch the old muscles he kept reigned in. Okay, so he still hadn’t gone all out on her of course, she was a girl and that wasn’t right! But he got to play a bit and she didn’t look too worse for wear. In fact, standing in front of him smiling with her perfect white teeth, with that bare arm propped on her curvy hip, dust in her hair and dirt smeared on her clothes, she looked mussed and tired and... stunning.

_Uh oh._

“Nah, uh…that ain’t, uh, yea,” he said eloquently.

Quistis rolled her eyes at his antics and immediately began casting light healing spells over herself. Her bruising faded, muscles almost singing in relief, and knowing that Zell wasn’t a proficient caster, she stepped forward in order to better examine the cuts she’d left on his body.

“I can do it! Uh, I mean,” he stammered, wide eyed when she leaned so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her body and smell that honey scent in her hair. She smelled too good for somebody who’d just sparred with him, and the way she was leaning over gave him _way_ too good a view of incredible breasts that he should never be noticing. Startled, he held up his hands, warding her off.

“Be quiet, Zell,” she sighed, marginally disappointed that he was so dismayed by her proximity. “I can get it done much quicker and much better, unless you want to be as scarred as Squall?”

“Chicks dig scars!” he retorted immediately, flushing red when he remembered he was talking to one of said chicks he’d thought about _digging his scars._

_You suck, man,_ he thought distractedly, and slowly dropped his hands with a sigh.

She skimmed her hands over his body, the wash of tingling magic soothing his stinging skin and ridding him of the cuts and bruises her whip had left behind.

It wasn’t necessary to touch him at all while she cast, but every time she did anyway and he didn’t stumble away yelling, she felt a tingle of excitement flood her nerves.

Zell tapped his foot nervously, finding his eyes returning again and again to her face. He’d never had Quistis so _close_ to him before. Even during the war, Rinoa had played medic most of the time and if Quistis had ever healed him, damned if he could recall it now.

She was so pretty, he found himself thinking, than corrected himself. Not just pretty, _really_ beautiful. Like cover-of-a-magazine-movie-star gorgeous. Her skin was clear and soft looking, her cheekbones were high, her eyes were bluer than blue with those long dark lashes, and her mouth, oh Hyne he'd never noticed how full and pink her mouth was.

Feeling his stare, she straightened, looking at his face and stopping when she saw the stunned, glazed look in his eye. She swallowed, wondering if perhaps she wasn’t the only one curious about the other.

“Zell?” she asked uncertainly.

“Thanks!” he yelped loudly, jerking away from her and flushing red.

“For?” she queried, busying herself by removing her glasses and cleaning the lenses with the corner of her shirt.

Zell cleared his throat, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet.

“For, uh, wastin’ your time coolin’ me down and all,” he shrugged. “You’re a good friend to have around when that sorta shit happens.”

_A good friend_ , she sighed mentally. Of course, how could she forget?

“I…” she cleared her throat and straightened her spine, forced her expression back from what she dreaded to think had been hopeful into one of cool distance. “It was nothing. I enjoyed it.”

_Why does she seem so cold again?_

Suddenly wanting to put that smile back on her face, Zell decided on a plan of action.

_Man, what went wrong so fast? She’s gonna shoot me down!_

“Meet me in the lobby!” he blurted before she could reject his offer. “Go shower or somethin’ and meet me in like, twenty!”

He began jogging backwards towards the entrance, pointing at her as he went.

“Don’t go anywhere else or nothin’! And don’t eat nothin’!”

He was gone before Quistis could reply, and she stood for a moment, uncertainty gnawing at her.

This was ridiculous. She felt like she was the last girl standing by the wall without a partner, and all because he’d mentioned she was his friend, which she _was_.

Wasn’t this kind of man-woman nonsense supposed to take time? It was true that she’d found Squall attractive from the beginning, certainly, but she hadn’t developed any warmer emotions for him until long into their acquaintance. She had always thought feelings of that persuasion were a budding, a shy exploration, not an… explosion of stupidity like this! She tried examining the fledging feelings that had begun so quickly and were growing within her with each breath; rationalizing it, explaining it, telling herself it was temporary insanity. It was quickly becoming less fascinating and more alarming. Two days ago Zell wouldn’t have dared to ask her to hang out with him at lunch, let alone decide for her.

_Why do people always compare these pathetic feelings to a flower_ , she thought bitterly, _when they’re far more like a disease._


	6. Chapter 6

She stood awkwardly in front of her closet, once again at a loss as to what to wear when she was going somewhere with Zell Dincht. Whatever it was, it would be best if it were ketchup proof. She had rinsed off in the shower, pinned her hair up in its usual clip, and then stared with distaste at her SeeD uniform. It wasn’t so strange to think of herself in civilian clothing, in skirts and dresses like a normal young woman on a summer day, but to do so while she was still on Garden grounds seemed so… inappropriate to her. Hesitantly, she pulled a white tank top over her head and quickly donned the white blouse she usually wore beneath her uniform jacket, buttoning it to a respectable level. Replacing her sullied skirt with another of her peach battle gear and the plain black flats she had worn since the other day, she surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked young. She looked inappropriate. She looked like any other student at lunch on a balmy summer day. Her calves were bare and she felt naked.

“Okay,” she breathed, smoothing her hands over her skirt. “Let’s do this.”

Quistis opened her door and slid out, feeling scrutinized already. Nobody was looking at her though, and she cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, and headed down to the crowded lobby.

She spotted him right away and when he caught sight of her he began to wave earnestly, nearly knocking himself off the ledge he was perched on. He didn’t seem to take notice of her clothing and she tamped down the thread of disappointment that wound through her. Of course he didn't. He saw her practically every day. 

“Quisty! Over here!” he bellowed enthusiastically, causing more than a few students to cringe away from him.

Glancing around uncomfortably, Quistis nodded at him and approached with caution.

“Check it out,” he grinned when she drew close. “I bagged us a bunch of good stuff from the cafeteria.”

He didn’t bother telling her that he’d had to threaten two other SeeD’s with a slow knuckle crack in order to get the last peaches, nor did he mention the fact that he may have stolen the cool juicy drinks from the back fridge while the cafeteria ladies were distracted by the mess he may have made accidentally-on-purpose after knocking over a pot of old soup. Everything else was legit.

“Lunch?” Quistis said, smiling at the pride in his voice.

He nodded eagerly, unsure of why he thought it was so important to keep Quistis talking and relaxed.

He headed off through the milling students, gesturing her to follow, and she found herself being led out to one of the courtyards with its tempting, shady patches of grass. He bared his teeth at a group of girls approaching the same spot he was and they halted uncertainly, giggling nervously before wandering away.

“That was rather ill mannered,” Quistis chuckled ruefully, watching the three hightail it away while tossing glances back over their shoulder at Zell. They didn’t seem particularly upset so much as intrigued, she thought with an unwanted pang of annoyance.

Making a great show of smoothing out the grass and tossing away any potentially pokey stones, Zell settled himself on the grass and began to pull out his edible treasure trove. Plump, rosy skinned peaches, a knife, glistening bottles of pink lemonade, a fat bundle of grapes, a box of crackers, and a couple containers of fruity yogurt were displayed before her.

“No hot dogs,” he sighed glumly, picking up one of the lemonades and cracking it open with relish.

“The quest continues,” Quistis murmured, sitting down gingerly and sighing at the feel of the scratchy grass cool beneath her calves. She took a lemonade as well, opening it and setting the cap carefully back in the discarded bag.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the bottle in her hand.

Temper immediately spiking as he recalled the reason he found himself out here to begin with, Zell tensed up.

“I don’t get that guy,” he muttered, crushing his knuckles into the grass.

“He is hard to talk to sometimes,” Quistis admitted. “As am I.”

“It’s like talking to a wall sometimes,” Zell snorted, unintentionally pricking at Quistis’ pride when the memory of similar words ran over her. “But I gotta try. I gotta be the SeeD I promised I’d be.”

“Why do you want that kind of recognition, Zell?” she asked curiously.

Sighing, he leaned back in the grass on his elbows, stretching his legs out before him. “For myself and for my gramps, you know? I wanted him to be proud of me. I guess I just want to live up to the Dincht name and be a hero and all that.”

“You saved the world,” Quistis said pointedly. “I'd say hero can be checked off the list. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone is grateful. Why do you need more than that to be happy?”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” he said, laughing. “Who said anything about not bein’ happy? I’m totally the happiest guy I know!”

He absently pulled up some of the grass between his fingers, tipping his head back so he could peer up through the leaves, bearing his neck. “I just miss it, all of us travelin’ together like our own little family. We’re all off doin’ our own things. I guess I just don’t wanna lose any of you.”

“I think,” Quistis said, looking away from him, “that we all miss that, in some ways.”

“…That why you kept pushin’ yourself so hard?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said pertly.

Zell snorted. “I mean doin’ nothin’ all day every day but teachin’! We all see it but you can cut a guy up with a look, right? Nobody wanted to say nothin’ to you!”

Quistis caught his eyes, blue meeting blue and pinning one another down. She held his stare. “You don’t seem scared.”

“No,” Zell said, blinking slowly and gazing right back, wondering at that spark of awareness within him, slow and low and hot. “I guess I ain’t.”

The moment caught and held, each of them staring quietly at the other and wondering what, exactly, was happening. Quistis broke away first, clearing her throat and gesturing vaguely to his face.

“I always meant to ask you, why did you get that tattoo?”

Shaking himself, Zell sat up, grinning and reciting the oft told tale. “My gramps always said ‘Boy, we like you ‘cause you got fire,’” he pointed to the two black lines curving down his cheek. “’but we love you ‘cause you got heart.’”

He grinned, sliding his finger along the curve winding up his temple, which sure enough, looked like half of a slim (albeit spiky) heart.

“You truly idolized him,” Quistis said, surprised. Zell nodded happily, unaware that what he saw as strength she would have seen as weakness within herself.

“Yeah, he was the strongest guy I knew! After we found out we were, you know, orphans, it killed me to know he wasn’t my real gramps. I got pretty freaked out.”

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Zell’s thoughts took on a bittersweet mien. “But in the end I looked at it different. I said to myself, Ma chose to love me and just kept doin’ it. Gramps, Hyne, even Pa before he took off! They all wanted to love me and they knew I wasn’t really their kid the whole time, right? Just ‘cause I knew _now_ wasn’t gonna change all that.”

“No, I suppose not,” she sighed, nibbling on one of the grapes.

“You, uh, you never talk much ‘bout your family. They no good?” he asked bluntly. He knew the basic story of her past, but had never thought prying would be a very good idea. He had always assumed he was likely to get a Laser Eye to the face if he started bugging her about her private life.

“They,” she tried to choose her words carefully as she attempted to give back some of what he’d given her, “meant well. If I had been born their daughter and raised from an early age there might have been more leniency.”

He was watching her, head tilted forward and turned to her, forearms braced on his knees, just listening, and so she tried to drudge up more uncertain words.

“I was told my own parents had died but I didn’t understand death. I thought I’d failed them so terribly that they left. From then on I tried never to fail. Then the Trepe’s came and I wanted to do better this time so they wouldn’t leave like my true parents had.”

Halting, she brushed her hand absently over her bangs, unsure of what to do with her idle fingers.

“As it was, they adopted me for politics rather than wanting a child, I suppose,” she said quietly. “I was something to show politicians that they’d done their part after the first Sorceress War. A little soldier girl to display at parties and charity functions and _say look at our generosity, we fixed this one._ It was a cold world for a child to grow in.”

She had tensed herself, expecting pity and ready to deflect it but Zell just sighed and shook his head.

“Who needs ‘em then. You got us now! And if you really need a ma, you can borrow mine!”

He frowned at her slightly, “but you ain’t gettin’ my room.”

“Thanks, I suppose,” she chuckled wryly, and picked up a peach and the knife, carefully cutting it into slices and peeling them away from the pit.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel washed out and exposed after telling him about her childhood. He hadn’t gotten that sympathetic coddling look that the other people she’d told her story to in an effort to explain herself had gotten. She wasn’t sure if he was callous or sensible.

_Better_ , she realized slowly _. I feel better now that that’s out there and done with; the difference between knowing a story and sharing one, I suppose._

Zell removed his eyes from Quistis. She was looking all thoughtful and sad and he didn’t want to push his luck. He was just happy to have found this new side of a girl he’d kind of assumed was _exactly_ as she appeared to be. The stupid thing was, he hated it when people did that to him. It was just that he’d never even bothered to try and find out why Quistis was so calm and commanding and now he was figuring out the reasoning behind it. It was sad, sure, but so were all their pasts. He figured they all just had to look forward instead. Living in the past just weighed you down and he had to move, move, move!

Turning to her again, because he never could keep himself from anything interesting for long, he stared at her ungloved hands as she picked up her lemonade. Her fingers were slender and elegant just like the rest of her, reminding him of all that classy stuff like champagne and chandeliers and way too many forks.

She sure was beautiful, all sleek clipped hair and long lashes and blue eyes, and those glasses sure were cute. His eyes fell on her mouth without even realizing it as she moved, and as he watched her bite delicately into a peach slice his insides clenched tightly at how red her lips were against the pale yellow fruit. Heat flooded his veins and he blushed, mouth dry. Looking away from her mouth, his eyes fell on her bare legs, and the sheer length of the slender limbs suddenly seemed indescribably naked. Hyne, they were _so_ long. Come to think of it, she wasn’t wearing too much, and her breasts were pushing against the white fabric of her tank top behind those shy little buttons just enough to make him think-

_Not good, not good, not good,_ he thought, panicked _. It’s just Quistis Trepe, just Quistis_ , but he was really starting to remember _why_ she had her own fan club.

He quickly shifted his eyes away, a pair of people drawing his eyes safely towards them as they entered the courtyard.

“Man!” Zell sighed, greatly relieved and deeply annoyed.

Squall and Rinoa had just walked into what Zell had immediately come to think of as _their_ hang out, and he resented their intrusion. Squall was looking rather sweaty and dishevelled the blonde thought smugly, as he tugged absently on the high collar of his uniform. Rinoa had abandoned her blue sleeves and long coat and had her hair up in a cheery ponytail. She waved as she caught sight of them and Quistis looked up, surprised, before glancing back at Zell.

His pale eyes were narrowed and he was scowling at his shoes.

“Quisty, Zell, fancy meeting you here!” she said, giving Quistis a questioning look.

Squall said nothing. Zell violently yanked more grass from the poor ground.

Plunking herself down beside the other girl, Rinoa forcefully tugged her boyfriend down with her and he settled his lean form uncomfortably on the grass, wary of students.

“Picnicking?” she asked, delighted. She gave Squall an excited nudge.

Rinoa truly hadn’t expected to find Quistis outside enjoying the sunshine, dressed comfortably, with Zell of all people! Apparently they’d gotten along better then she’d hoped. It made sense in a way. Zell’s brash enthusiasm and energy might wake Quistis up from her doldrums, and her calm and composure might help Zell gain a bit of his own. However, there was no sense wondering about that as she had a mission to fulfill. She gave Squall another nudge, sharper this time. He pretended to ignore her. She raised a brow in challenge and turned back to the two blondes.

“Squall has something to say to you Zell,” she explained as if mediating between children.

“Yea?” Zell snorted without looking up from his sneakers.

“Yes,” Squall said blandly. “I’ll be deducting the repair costs for my wall from your salary.”

Rinoa rolled her eyes, snagging a small bunch of grapes from the pile. She aimed one at her boyfriend’s head and tossed. “Nope. Try again.”

“I’d rather not,” he deadpanned.

“Squall,” she warned.

“Rinoa,” he replied tonelessly.

Quistis arched her brow at her leader and friend, censure thick in her tone. “Have any missions for _bashing walls_ _and back flips_ come up, Squall?”

Feeling tattled on, Squall clenched his jaw and glanced at Zell, who was now staring open mouthed at Quistis as if she had just hefted up a flaming sword and vanquished him in Zell’s name. He was a little miffed at the other man telling on him to Quistis, and even more irritated with the streak of guilt he felt hearing his words repeated back at him.

“Fine,” he snorted. “I said some things that were out of line. I apologize.”

Zell switched his distracted eyes back to Squall, grinning. First Quistis defended him against Squally, than Squally, (under that scary girly pressure, but still) apologized? Had he died and gone to bizarro heaven? Squall was looking at him, face blank, and Zell tried to gather his giddy thoughts into some sort of order.

“Aw, I love you too, man,” he gushed happily.

“Whatever,” Squall said.

Smiling, Rinoa leaned against Squall adoringly while he sulked. Quistis merely shook her head and took a sip of the sweet lemonade.

“Zell,” Rinoa trilled and pointed teasingly to her hair, “do I remind you of anyone?”

He looked at her dumbly. “Rinoa?”

She snickered and threw a grape at him, only to have him jerk upwards and catch it in his mouth, crunching on it with a victorious grin. He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Dark hair? Pigtail? Your little Library Girl, dummy!” she snorted.

Beside him Quistis took another sip of her drink and said nothing. She studied the intricately spiking grass, plaiting the tips together with absentminded fingers.

“Yea,” Zell laughed uneasily, rubbing his head. “Right. Totally.”

He glanced sidelong at the seemingly disinterested blonde beside him and felt a flicker of resentment spring back up inside of him. First Rinoa interrupts him when he was getting to know all kinds of new things about Quisty, and now she was making it all awkward by bringing up the Library Girl. It just felt weird to talk about her when a few minutes earlier he’d been thinking about how soft and red Quistis’ mouth looked, or how much he’d wanted to slide his ungloved hands along her calves. His cheeks flamed when he realized that he’d been gawking at the quiet Quistis for way too long while Rinoa and Squall stared at him.

He laughed uneasily and dropped backwards against the grass, arms outstretched. It was safer to look at the canopy of leaves and feel the grass scratching the bare skin of his arms and neck than to look anywhere else.

“So,” Rinoa said uncertainly, getting to her feet and tugging her surprised boyfriend up with her, “we’ve got to get going. Right now.”

Quistis glanced up from the grass, surprised. She’d stopped listening to the conversation as soon as Zell’s crush had come up and now she felt foolish.

Squall looked impassive but he nodded. Rinoa shrugged, catching his hand and hurrying them away with a smile.

“She looks as if she’s running,” Quistis scoffed, glancing down at Zell.

They were alone again. She tried to pretend she wasn’t pleased.

He turned his head to meet her eyes, mouth quirking slightly in a lopsided smile. The sunlight shining through the leaves cut bright puzzle pieces from the shadows scattered over Zell’s uniform, his blonde hair, his blue eyes, while the breeze stirred lazily through the thick heat and rustled the grass beneath them. Had she been any kind of romantic she might have recognized potential when she saw it. Instead she just smiled slightly and turned away.

Zell had no idea what she had been thinking, but he turned back to the leaves anyway when he sensed that that was what she wanted him to do. Of course, he thought apologetically, if he had some loudmouth gaping at him like a total idiot for way too long, he’d want them to turn away to.

“I can’t believe Squally said sorry!” he grinned, “Things just keep gettin’ better and better!”

“Oh?” she asked.

“Yea!” he grinned enthusiastically, twisting himself up with only his muscular stomach. “Squall might give me a chance to show my stuff!”

He leaned forward on his knees and studied his shoes as he spoke again, looking rather bashful, Quistis decided.

“Us gettin’ to hang out has been really… I don’t know,” he smiled. “I like it a lot.”

Quistis smoothed down the edge of her skirt and told herself not to read too much into his words or expressions. Zell was hopelessly open, wearing his heart on his sleeve completely free of artifice. She didn’t want to misconstrue his satisfaction with their newly renovated friendship as more and wind up hurting them both. If nothing else, she truly was happy to count him as a friend.

She replied with a soft smile of her own.

“I do to, Zell,” she said.

He glanced at her as if he found that hard to believe, and unable to help herself Quistis touched his arm, the heat of him sinking into her fingers.

“Really,” she insisted honestly. “I do.”

And he believed her.

\--

“I know what I saw today, Selphie,” Rinoa nodded emphatically, stubbornly crossing her arms. The tiny brunette did a nervous little dance as excitement ran lightning quick through her veins. She bit her lip, mind running a mile a minute as the darker haired girl watched her expectantly.

“Do you know what this means?!” she squealed, green eyes wide.

“Yes,” Rinoa replied, unwinding her arms and toying absently with the end of her hair. “It means that poor little Zell has a crush on Quistis.”

Selphie shook her head, striking a triumphant victory pose. “Wrong! It means _she’s_ got the hots for _him_!”

Rinoa snorted, rolling her eyes. “She wasn’t the one staring at him like he was the only drink of water in the Great Salt Lake.”

“But,” Selphie wheedled, pointing excitedly at the other girl, “you told me that Quistis stood up to Squally for him! That’s not normal.”

Thoughtfully, Rinoa tapped her chin, conceding the point. “What about when I mentioned the Library Girl? He got all weird and edgy!”

“And she got quiet and all ‘I-could-not-possibly-care-less’ which totally means ‘I-totally-care-loads’,” Selphie nodded.

The two thought for a while, wondering what it was they were seeing. Neither of them wanted to draw unwanted conclusions and wreck whatever was happening before it had a chance to flourish, but they wanted to know!

“Do you think it was a date?” Selphie gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth.

“No way! Quistis would never go on a date on Garden grounds!” Rinoa sniffed.

“Um, yesterday we would have said Quisty would never go on a date with _Zell_ , and look where we are now!” The brunette pointed out.

“No, it wasn’t a date. They were both way too relaxed. Besides, they hung out yesterday to, right? Maybe they just had so much fun they wanted to do it again,” Rinoa rationalized.

Sighing, Selphie spun on her toes and skipped over to the nearby window.

“Maybe they’re secretly dating?” she mused.

Rinoa grinned. “Of course! Maybe they’ve been in love since day one!”

Giggling, Selphie nodded. “Maybe Zell’s been pining away for Quisty all this time, but was never brave enough to confess his obsession until yesterday!”

“And Quistis fell for him during the Sorceress Wars,” Rinoa laughed, “but had to hide her feelings because she thought he loved the Library Girl!”

“Naturally! But that was just a cover to hide his true feelings. In fact, he’s the founder of the Trepies, their mysterious leader!” Selphie added.

Breaking into laughter, the two couldn’t continue, their silly ideas getting away from them. There was no way Quistis had liked Zell during the war, and Zell had been mooning over Library Girl for a few years now. Not to mention the Quistis fan club had been formed before Zell even came to Garden.

“Well, what do you think is really happening?” Rinoa sighed, giggled subsiding.

Selphie shrugged carelessly, but the twinkle of mischief in her eye brought an answering smile to Rinoa’s face.

“Only one way to find out!”

Putting their heads together, the two girls formed a plan. Behind them, long forgotten and horrifically uncomfortable, Squall sighed.

\--

Quistis resolved to speak to Squall that very night after hiding (no, not hiding, tactfully retreating) in her room the rest of the day, heading up to his office an hour before dinner began as she knew where he’d be. His secretary hesitated to announce her presence without an appointment but did so when Quistis levelled her with a haughtily tilted chin and a hard stare.

Squall opened to door, ushered her in, and sat waiting expectantly as if he knew why she was there already. She didn’t bother taking a seat, knowing she thought better when she was moving. Instead she affected her most professional demeanor and stood at attention before his desk.

“It’s about Zell,” she declared directly.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Why are you telling me?”

Quistis’ brow furrowed slightly as she lost track of the carefully thought out speech she was about to launch into.

“Why? Because you’re his boss,” she said, confused.

Squall blinked after a pause and gestured for her to continue.

“As I was saying,” she said haltingly, cursing him for throwing her off. “I wanted to speak to you about Zell.”

Abandoning her speech, she decided to just say what she wanted to point blank, looking at the man before her as a friend rather than an employer.

“You aren’t being entirely fair about his capabilities, Squall,” she said calmly, and he stared back at her blankly.

She continued, voice firmer. “You’re allowing past biases to cloud your current judgment.”

“I would think,” he replied slowly, “that I was drawing on my past knowledge to make better decisions in the present. Technically it’s the same thing.”

“Fine. Only we’ve both spun them in positive and negative directions,” she frowned imperiously.

Squall shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “What do you want me to do? Toss him out into the next difficult, and may I add well paid for, mission and hope for the best? He wants to do the things he isn’t cut out for, Quistis.”

She sighed, standing and moving gracefully around the room. She hovered near one of the paintings on the wall, wondering vaguely if Squall himself had chosen them or if they’d just been hung there randomly. The tempestuous ocean scene replete with sinking ship and damsel seemed a bit on the nose for him.

“Of course I don’t expect that. All I am trying to suggest is that you reassess what you think you know of him. He deserves better from us. He’s grown up.”

“You seem to have noticed that fact,” he said pointedly.

“Your meaning?” she asked archly, looking at Squall over her shoulder.

He was studying her without expression. “Nothing at all.”

She blushed guiltily, the telling color spreading up her chest all the way to her hairline before she had the sense to turn back to the stupid painting to try and hide it.

“Will you just try listening to my recommendation? I’ve never steered you wrong before,” she sighed impatiently.

“No,” he replied carefully, “but it isn’t often that your personal feelings factor into your advice.”

Quistis bowed her head, knowing he was right but knowing she was also right to force the issue. Squall would be content to keep Zell in his neatly labeled little box and send him out on the same routine missions over and over when he could do much more. There was no motive, positive or negative, behind his actions; it was just all he could do when he knew his employees on such a personal level. His preconceptions were hurting Zell’s chances at becoming someone stronger, wiser and more capable then who he was now.

“How I feel,” she said, swallowing, “or _don’t_ feel for Zell aside, I think you do him a disservice to assume he has nothing to offer but brute strength.”

“Fine,” Squall snorted.

“Fine?”

“I’ll look his files over, talk to him, see what I can offer. But Quistis –“ He stopped awkwardly, wishing once again he had Rinoa’s gift of open warmth and friendliness. He ran a weary hand through his long hair.

“Quistis, I don’t think you know what you’re asking. Zell’s always been the sensitive little crybaby, remember?” he looked about to vomit his own words out, so uncomfortable was the grimace of his face. “I don’t want him to get… hurt.”

Turning to study her reticent leader, Quistis smiled slightly. “I’m sure he’d be happy to know that.”

“Yea, well, you’re sworn to secrecy,” he glared.

Nodding her head, she headed out the door, wondering if she’d ever get close enough to Zell to be able to hurt him at all, and almost glad he wasn’t willing to hand her that kind of power.

\--


	7. Chapter 7

The emergency lights began flashing at roughly one o’clock in the morning two nights later, their dull red pulsating rhythmically over the walls. It was followed swiftly by several high, skittish beeps before evening out into a long, repetitious ring. A calm robotic voice filtered loudly through the strategically placed speakers, and Zell, who had been roused from a deep sleep and had staggered out of bed, visibly relaxed.

_Warning, Level Two Emergency Protocols in effect. Remain calm. Warning, Level Two Emergency Protocols in effect. Remain calm…’_

It was a level two so they weren’t under attack. However, he knew that that meant there must be a big power failure, computer malfunction or something just as bad somewhere. They were currently on land so at least they weren’t going to crash into a mountain or something! Furiously yanking on his earlier discarded SeeD uniform, he tried to remember where to find Squall in situations like this as adrenaline began to kick in. Tugging his Ehrgeiz on he dashed out of his room and into the hall, which was thankfully empty.

For a Level Two Emergency, cadets and SeeD under rank twenty were supposed to remain in their dorms or whatever room they were currently in. If they couldn’t stay there, they had backup plans of their own that he couldn’t really remember. SeeD above level twenty and Instructor’s were to report to Commander Squall and had their own backup plans as well. He thought. Right? Yea, maybe.

“Know what’s goin’ on?” Irvine’s familiar drawl came from behind him, and jumping edgily around, Zell ran a hand through his hair, spiking it even further.

“Nope. Just woke up,” he snorted.

The cowboy shrugged, Exeter resting comfortably against his shoulder. He had on his usual trench coat and hat, looking as if he were going out for a lazy stroll rather than reporting in for an emergency. The two of them walked quickly down the silent hall and as they entered the Lobby took in the abruptly changed scene.

Squall was standing front and center, issuing orders. A few alarmed cadets and lower rank SeeDs were filing out behind a subdued Selphie, and Zell shot a look at the Galbadian beside him.

“Whoa! We’re evacuating the kids? Must be pretty shitty!”

Irvine nodded lazily, eyes following the little brunette for a moment as the two hurried to Squall.

“What’s goin’ on Commander?” Zell asked quickly, desperate to know what had roused the entire Garden at one in the morning.

Squall, catching sight of them, nodded in weary greeting. “Electrical short and now we’ve got a fire in the damn engine rooms spreading fast. Bad enough to short out the Floor Two doors and lighting and that stupid computer too. It’s telling us there are fires all over, even where there are most definitely not. We can’t even reprogram the stupid thing to start declaring it a Level Three so we need to do a manual evac to ensure nobody gets caught in a fire.”

He pointed at Irvine. “Evacuate the male dorms. Quistis is covering the female dorms right now. Bring them outside and hand them over to Selphie. Rinoa is taking roll with Xu and Nida.”

Zell was next, and he stood sharply, fighting the urge to salute. “Zell, I need you to force open all the Floor Two doors and check for anyone who might have gotten caught when the doors lost power. Lead them out and give them to Selphie. Check for fires. Take these, channel two.”

Squall took two of the sleek short wave radios recently purchased by Balamb Garden from a waiting cadet and handed them each one. Irvine tipped his hat and immediately strode towards the dormitories. Zell jogged up the stairs towards the elevator, glancing around in case he could spot Quistis, but she was probably in the dorms already. He examined it for a minute, taking note of the Talk button, switched it on and clipped his radio to his chest pocket, trying not to look like he thought he looked cool, even though he _totally_ knew he did.

He smacked the stairwell doors open and charged up the first flight, testing them for heat, sniffing suspiciously for fire as he went. He shoved open the doors to the second floor and swore profusely when it opened to nothing but darkness and the repetitious flash of the red emergency lights.

“Creepy!” he said aloud, cracking his knuckles and jogging towards the first classroom door.

One by one he used his own brute force magic to open the doors, finding nothing but shadows and silence behind them. Several of the manual locks offered a token resistance and he broke them apologetically, wondering if Squall would be mad, but it couldn’t be helped when he didn’t have a key. If he needed to he could do what he did so well and channel Ifrit through his fists and wrench the doors off like tissue from a box or punch through walls like they were wet paper. This kind of restraint took tact and skill! He called out but nobody answered, until finally he had circled back to the stairs. He took them back downstairs, the doors opening to a startled Squall standing right outside.

“I was making sure the elevator wasn’t being used,” he said curtly. “Our fire crew is still working and we’ve just lost power to the First Floor doors. I’m going to need you to get them open and check for students.”

“Okay, boss,” Zell nodded, grinning. “I’m useful, see?”

Squall waved him off, turning to head outside and oversee the students. “Prove it.”

Zell sighed and moved to do just that. It wasn’t likely that there would be students still in the rooms, but if there were, it was protocol to stay put until further notice.

Since it was so late the only real problem could be the Training Center or any curfew breakers who might have gotten caught out of their dorms. He cracked his knuckles again, bracing himself and getting a good grip on the doors in order to pry them apart. The lower level doors were more difficult than the classrooms, but with his strength and Ergheiz it was still like pulling open gauzy curtains and he couldn’t help but grin at how awesome that made him feel. He couldn’t think of any other people that could do what he did. He was pretty badass!

He searched the Training Center as thoroughly as he could but only found a few milling monsters. He was glad that the lights hadn’t given up the ghost yet, because searching through the dense foliage with nothing but spooky lights to guide him gave him the heebie-jeebies. The library, the cafeteria and the Quad all yielded no one. He hit jackpot when he got to the Infirmary though, pulling open the doors and skidding through with his usual verve.

His thoughts came to a grinding halt when he spotted Library Girl sitting nervously on one of the beds in a pair of loose mauve pajamas, pigtail still in place. Her eyes widened when she spotted him, and he blinked at her stupidly, unsure of what to say.

“Zell!” she gasped, standing and crossing the room timidly, “Thank goodness somebody came!”

“Uh, yea!” he said, confused.

She must have been sick or something, sitting around in her night stuff in the medical ward. She didn’t look like she was going to barf or anything though… An idea hit him. This was his chance. He was getting to play hero, and if her wide, impressed eyes were anything to go by, he was doing an awesome job already.

“This way,” he muttered, turning and hurrying back out. He felt unsure, having her following so closely behind him in her cute little pajamas.

“I had heat stroke,” she said quietly, eyes wide as she followed helplessly along, “and Doctor Kadowaki was keeping me overnight, but the alarms went off and nobody came for so long… I was so scared.”

What should he do? Put his arm around her? Tell her she was safe with him? That was risky with his Ergheiz on. This was way too hard, and what if she got scared of him?! He couldn’t handle weepy girls! They were all mushy and pliant like wet hankies and they made him feel like a bully! He nodded distractedly as she spoke, gesturing for her to follow closely while he pried open the other doors. They found no other people though and as he led her down the stairs, her trailing at his heels, she reached a tentative hand out and touched his elbow.

“Huh?” he said, jerking to a halt and immediately wanted to kick himself for being so smooth.

He turned and looked into her dark eyes. Did she want him to kiss her or something? Did he want to? She was very cute, all flushed and grateful, with her little purple colored pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Quistis would never wear fuzzy slippers, and he imagined she wore something slinky to bed that clung to that tiny waist and those curvy hips and those legs that just kept going forev–

“I just wanted to thank you,” Library Girl was saying shyly, and he snapped to attention, relieved that that was all she’d wanted.

“It was nothin’,” he grinned, and urged her to follow him again.

Outside of Balamb Garden, throngs of students gossiped quietly in the cool night. They were lucky it was summer, but Zell spotted Selphie handing out the standard woolen survival blankets anyway. He moved forward hoping to find Squall and caught sight of Rinoa’s blue coat as she chatted quietly with a small group of girls. Behind him, Library Girl was still standing quietly near his elbow and he glanced at her.

“Rinoa there,” he said, pointing, “is takin’ names down. You gotta go give her yours, okay?”

_What the hell was it, anyway?_ He thought about asking her, even opening his mouth to start, but stopped and nervously scratched his head instead. He could do this. He was Zell Dincht, after all. He took a breath.

“Hey, what _is_ \- ”

He was interrupted by Squall and Irvine coming into his line of sight and waving him over, and he wasn’t sure if he was exasperated at the timing or grateful that the mystery continued.

He gave her the thumbs up and then ran after his Commander.

“Squall!” he called noisily.

The brunette turned, waiting for him to catch up.

“I only found one, sir,” he said, pleased with himself. “So what next?”

Sighing, Squall shrugged, glancing around at the clear, star strewn sky.

“The fires are mostly out. We need time though. Maintenance is looking at our electrical systems and they’ve got to repair the damage as well as find the cause.”

“We can’t get ‘em to Balamb, there’s too many,” Irvine murmured thoughtfully, “but we can tent ‘em, right? Think of it as a good old fashioned camp out for the night.”

“No fires,” Squall snorted, and looked towards Garden. “We’ll send a few of you in for supplies. Irvine, Zell, take some higher level SeeD’s and get the tents, the blankets, and whatever else you need and – “

He broke off, nodding to somebody behind Zell, and the blonde glanced over his shoulder to see who he was looking at then immediately swung himself fully around, nearly losing his footing and knocking roughly into Irvine. His jaw dropped.

_Man… Huh I, um… That’s just…._

Heading towards them in her perfectly immaculate, well pressed SeeD uniform, her hand set loosely above the whip at her waist, was Quistis. Her face was cool and confident in full leadership mode. She looked as collected as ever, with her glasses perched professionally on her nose. But there was a hair out of place. Oh Hyne was there _ever_. 

  
All Zell could see was her long, loose hair as it spilled over her shoulders and face down to her waist in sheaths of soft blonde that he knew for fact smelled like warm honey. It was everywhere, smooth and glossy as it swept around with her with each flowing step, and all he could think was that she just might be the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on in his life.

“Sir,” she nodded at Squall, glancing momentarily at Zell who was staring at her like he’d never seen her before, “the female dorms are clear now.”

“Good,” Squall said, “I’m sending these two in for tents and gear. I want you to take some people into the cafeteria and get rations, water, and whatever else you think we’ll need for the night. I’ve got a perimeter to set up.”

He turned, striding off to continue his tireless job, and Quistis rounded on Zell.

“What is it?” she hissed, a fierce blush heating her face.

Irvine studied his shorter friend’s expression, flipping idly through the catalog of the love-struck and smitten in his mind. Hyne knew he saw enough of those looks in his day to day life, he had no trouble reading Zell’s open, glazed look.

Lust. Pure and simple.

The gunslinger grinned to himself and sauntered away, leaving the two to whatever mischief they could get into on their own for a moment. Admittedly, he didn’t think that was much.

Zell wondered how fast she’d Limit Break if he touched it. He’d wanted to since that day on the docks but that wasn’t exactly something you could go up and ask a girl. He also knew he’d better answer her soon because she was losing the look of concerned irritation that had been furrowing her brow and something more like self-consciousness was appearing. He hated that. He didn’t think anybody as nice and smart and interesting as she was should ever feel bad about themselves.

“You,” he blurted. “I mean, your hair. It’s…”

She blinked, eyes widening momentarily as her hands fluttered up and touched the fallen strands. Of course, she hadn’t bothered to clip up her hair when the alarms had sounded, merely dressed, grabbed her weaponry and reported for duty. In the painstaking process of checking every dormitory for students and bringing the nervous girls outside she’d forgotten about it. Now, with Zell staring at her like she’d sprouted wings, she wasn’t sure if she was glad or not.

“It’s what?” she asked defensively, tucking some behind her ear.

In a completely shocking maneuver, Zell’s hand darted out and pulled the strand she’d just shoved away back out, a blush spreading over his cheekbones as the buttery silk glided through his fingers. Quistis stiffened, breathe catching as she watched his face. There was something in his eyes, and she felt her blood thrumming in response.

“Hyne, it’s so _nice_ , is all,” he said bashfully, his hand falling away as he looked down at his feet, scuffing the toes against the grass.

They stood together, breathing in the warm night air and one another, knowing that something had just shifted between them. Zell wanted to touch her again. Hyne, he didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything more than to touch her again. His heart was pounding, his stomach was full of really really _awake_ butterflies, and he was pretty sure he was grinning at her like an idiot.

“You two going to stand there makin’ moon eyes all night or what?” an amused Irvine interrupted, having recruited five other students to assist them with supplies and returned to find them still staring at one another.

Zell startled, glancing back at an embarrassed Quistis before pointing at the cowboy.

“We ain’t makin’ moon pies!” he shouted. “What, you stare at the ground when you talk?”

“We were deciding on the best way to get this all finished quickly,” Quistis said, flushing slightly beneath Irvine’s knowing stare. He tipped his hat to her, always appreciative of beautiful members of the opposite sex.

The fighter puffed up when he saw the direction of the cowboy’s playful gaze, stepping forward and waving his arms in front of the taller man’s face.

“Come on! We got work to do,” he yelped, grabbing hold of Irvine’s coat and yanking the amused cowboy around.

The bewildered students assigned to help followed the arguing pair, Zell gesticulating wildly while Irvine nodded, clearly mocking him. Quistis sighed and went to find her own group of people and gather whatever was needed to make it through the night. She could analyze the nuances of what just happened later.

\--

Surveying the makeshift camp with a critical eye, Quistis was satisfied. The perimeter walls had been established and set up with low electrical fields to keep away wandering monsters, and cadets were stationed to keep watch. The tents themselves were set up in relatively tidy rows, with two students assigned to each one. Co-ed sharing was strictly forbidden, though Irvine was attempting to convince Squall that it was imperative he share a tent with Selphie or Quistis for their own good. Portable outhouses had even been set up for everyone’s convenience, and now that the crisis was over everyone (not in authority) was beginning to relax. She eyed a group of pajama clad SeeDs playing Triple Triad with a tinge of longing.

“Everyone is safe and sound,” Rinoa sighed, coming up beside her and looking over the site with relief. “Squall isn’t going to stop pacing until we’re all back inside though. He’s such a father sometimes.”

“A trait you adore,” Quistis smirked, and Rinoa shrugged cheerfully. She could make out Zell’s shock of blonde bangs as he tore across the campsite several rows away, something clutched in his hand. Irvine was hot on his heels, the lanky cowboy swiping at whatever it was the speedy fighter was taunting him with.

“There’s a lot of things I adore about him. Guys have a way of doing that, don’t they?” Rinoa sighed, “Twisting our heartstrings up so that even their worst traits seem endearing?”

Quistis did not like the dark sidelong glance she was receiving from the shorter woman.

“I wouldn’t know,” she said tightly, a blush suffusing her cheeks.

Her traitorous eyes fell on Zell, who had tripped and was now cursing on the ground, clutching his knee in over-dramatic fashion until Irvine came within tackling distance. Then he sprang up again and took off, whooping and swinging what she could now see were Selphie’s nanchuku over his head. A few weeks ago she would have been shaking her head in agitated disgust as his immaturity, worried he was about to clock himself with the heavy weapon. Now, she was telling herself she didn’t find his enthusiasm just a bit charming. Now, she knew he was too agile and too good with his hands to ever smack himself with the nanchuku.

“Zell sure has been energetic these last few days,” Rinoa continued. “Even more so than usual.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Quistis repeated, weaker this time.

“No? I guess it’s his library girl firing him up. Maybe he’s finally going to ask her out. That’d be nice,” Rinoa sighed cheerfully.

“Certainly,” Quistis replied coldly, narrowing her eyes at the brunette. They both knew exactly what Rinoa was up to. Rinoa’s eyes widened.

“Look like he just got his chance,” Rinoa said, actually a tad dismayed to see Zell halting suddenly in front of the pigtailed brunette a few feet away from them. He was guiltily shoving the nanchuku behind his back and a panting Irvine, finally catching up, snatched them away and tucked them into his coat. A few words were exchanged and Rinoa wanted to hear them so badly she was actually leaning forward, before Irvine tipped his hat and left the two alone.

Glancing up at Quistis, Rinoa was surprised to see the blonde looking in the other direction entirely.

“We could use another sentry posted about fifty feet down the wall,” she said thoughtfully, and if she hadn’t known her so well, Rinoa might have been fooled by the studied nonchalance in her tone.

“Quistis, are you and Zell…?” she trailed off, unsure.

Cool blue eyes turned towards Rinoa, and Quistis arched a brow haughtily. “Are Zell and I _what?_ ”

“You’ve just been acting strangely,” Rinoa sighed. “Ever since you went fishing.”

Quistis bit her lip, looking away from Rinoa’s dark, knowing eyes back to Zell, who stood rubbing his hands through his hair while the library girl nodded demurely.

“He’s very open,” she hesitated, floundering for the words that would explain to Rinoa how she was feeling aside from the clawing jealousy currently tearing at her, “and I never knew how… compact he was, which is very, um, efficient. He’s very agile. And helpful.”

“Efficient and helpful?” Rinoa giggled. “ _Compact?_ Are you trying to say in the most awkward way possible that you have the hots for Zell? He is very muscular. _Very_ compact.”

“Be quiet!” Quistis hissed, glancing frantically around in case any cadets overheard her teasing. “I find his physique impressive, yes, but I don’t have _the_ _hots_ for him!”

“Don’t be shy, Quistis. You aren’t the only girl who stops to stare when he takes his shirt off. Has he caught your eye?”

Quistis faltered on her immediate refusal, remembering that ridiculously sweet smile he threw around without discretion and the way it had made her feel glad to be sitting down. She remembered the cheerful tone of his voice as he sat on her classroom floor fixing her glasses, the way his shoulders had flexed when he stretched out and the little thrill she got whenever he cracked his knuckles and shook himself out before he began to brawl and how his -

“Oh God, yes,” Quistis moaned miserably. “Ever since he fixed my glasses I’ve been more and more fascinated by him. I want it to stop. I don’t need this kind of complication.”

“Actually, I think this is exactly the kind of complication you need,” Rinoa snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to somebody. It’s just those tricky hearts that get in the way that are the problem.”

“I highly doubt that this… fascination… is reciprocal,” Quistis sniffed. “I would have noticed.”

Wisely, Rinoa kept her opinion on that to herself. Instead she settled on pointing an incredulous stare at the Instructor.

“You’re not serious,” she frowned. “There’s a reason you have a fan club and I’m looking at all five feet seven inches of it.”

“Why do you know my height?” Quistis asked suspiciously.

Rinoa waved her off. “As a resident short girl, it’s my duty to know. Anyway Quistis, you’re pure sex to most of the boys here. You use a whip. You strut around in knee high boots, skin tight fabric and leather.”

Looking aghast, Quistis smoothed a hand over her demure SeeD uniform. She’d never considered her choice of battle gear as overtly sexual, nor did she wield a whip because of its appeal to the opposite gender. She’d never realized she was being viewed as some sort of...of _educational_ _dominatrix_ , and wondered if the Trepies were a heck of a lot creepier than she had thought.

“I thought I had admirers because I was intelligent and commendable,” she muttered sourly.

“You do!” Rinoa soothed, “but there are plenty of intelligent girls at Balamb Garden. Not all of them look like they stepped out of a porno magazine though.”

Rinoa laughed at the indignant glare Quistis threw at her, waving a hand. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m kidding Quisty!”

“Anyway,” the blonde frowned disapprovingly. “I should make my rounds. I was serious about that sentry.”

“I’ll let Squall know,” Rinoa nodded, giving her friend a teasing grin as she hurried away. “You might want to think of letting Zell know about how _compact_ you find him! I’m sure that’ll rile him up good!”

Tight-lipped, Quistis shrugged, striding forward a few paces and trying to broadcast professionalism and authority in every step without implying anything improper. She halted, wondering if hanging her hand on her whip was inappropriate, wondering if she was giving people the wrong idea with the way she moved her hips. She bit her lip, brushing her hair back from her shoulders and drawing in a centering breath. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of her. It didn’t matter that he was behind her talking to his library sweetheart. If she was lucky, she told herself, they’d confess their gushingly sweet adoration of one another right then and there and Quistis would no longer have the solve the dilemma that was Zell Dincht herself. It wasn't as though that was even an option for her to table even if it was plain to her what a poor match those two would be, like a…like a wendigo in love with a moomba.

“Hey Quisty!” the man in question was running full tilt towards her and she jumped guiltily from her poisoned thoughts. He skidded to a halt, shifting giddily from foot to foot and grinding his palm into the opposing fist in what she was learning was an excited tell for him.

“Zell! Hello again! Now. Here. Tonight. You’re well?” she coughed slightly, glancing around and praying to Hyne knows who that Rinoa was not within earshot for that.

“Yea,” he snorted, looking at her oddly. “I’m great!”

He was grinning like an idiot at her, and he didn’t even care how she might be feeling even though he’d touched her hair and stared at her like he had earlier. Quistis looked him over, wondering just what the library girl had said to make him grin like that. It didn’t bother her overly much. It didn’t. It _couldn’t_.

“Good. I was just about to make my rounds,” she hedged, glancing around for something that might excuse her from his incendiary presence. He was distracting. He was dismaying. He was delicious. It didn’t help that he’d obviously been running his hands through his hair and it was spiking messily in a couple directions that she wanted to smooth back. It didn’t help that he was gazing straight at her and smiling like his face was about to break. It didn’t help that he was wearing his SeeD uniform and it looked disconcertingly well tailored to those broad shoulders, stretching taut across his ridiculously broad chest. It didn’t help that he was _there_.

“Do you,” she swallowed, _have something to do aside from sidetrack me and make me jealous_ , “want to join me?”

She nearly smacked herself in the face.

Zell just grinned. “Sure do,” he said.

He fell into step beside her, feeling like he was King of Balamb, if Balamb had a king, which would be kind of cool and he’d look suave with a crown on. Tonight was a good night. He’d followed orders properly, saved the Library Girl, got the best of Irvine for making fun of him, and was still feeling that excitement that Quistis had stirred up in him earlier. Even though running into the Library Girl again while goofing around with Irvine had made him feel twisted up and nervous. She had asked him if he was heading to the Triple Triad tournament, and he could have sworn her face was disappointed when he said no. He wasn't sure what to say to her anymore and she had asked him a few delayed questions about cards and tents and stuff but he could hardly think of anything to say back. So, he'd done the only thing that made sense in that situation. He'd dashed off to find Quistis.

It was pretty sweet, walking with Quisty while she strode along looking important and in charge and freaking sexy. Zell straightened his spine, a small cloud dripping a bit on his parade. With her hair hanging soft around her shoulders like that she looked more gorgeous than ever. If even Zell noticed that fact, it must be totally apparent to everybody else. In fact he was sure boys were sneaking dirty little glances at her as they walked by, and he shot a glare at a tired looking cadet mid-yawn. The boy stumbled back a few steps, confused and alarmed as they passed him by.

“Cadet Gersh,” Quistis was saying coolly a moment later, and Zell snapped to attention, “Aren’t you supposed to be stationed at twenty-four?”

Gersh was looking decidedly nervous while a cute brunette and a redhead stood behind him at attention. He opened his mouth to speak, glanced at the suspicious Zell, stopped, and hung his head. He nodded.

“As I thought,” Quistis frowned. “Get back to your post immediately, Gersh. You have responsibilities to shoulder that do not relate to your baser instincts.”

He scampered, and the girls resumed their duties, looking rather chastened themselves.

“You’re pretty amazing,” Zell sighed happily once they were out of earshot. “Kids respect you.”

Quistis thought for a moment. “I suppose so, yes. I’ve earned that respect. Not that that means I should ever stop trying to earn it. The moment you stop earning it, you become entitled to it. And if you become entitled to respect, you are merely arrogant.”

“I guess so, yeah,” Zell nodded. He couldn't think of anything wise and smart-like to reply with. “It's like with the fishing. You gotta keep tossing that line in over and over cause if you stop, you ain't gonna catch any fish at all.”

“Just like that,” Quistis said with a smile. “Do you still want to go fishing again?”

“Of course! I was thinking of going tomorrow afternoon after we get everything back inside! I think we'll have earned a break by then, right? You in?”

Quistis looked away over the quiet expanses of grass, her stomach fluttering excitedly. “Yes, certainly.”

“Awesome!” he smiled, tucking his hands in his pockets because they were itching to do something stupid like grab her hand.

They walked on in companionable silence, leaving the main camp behind them and moving from sentry post to sentry post. The sky was smooth and black, the stars spilling over as bright and white as snowflakes. The cool grass brushed along their feet, the dusty, day-dried scent of it heavy and cloying in the air. It was a beautiful night.

Zell tried to figure out what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do in this situation, but it was hard. Never mind all those wild, crazy, sexy moments when he gawked at her like an idiot, he just liked hanging out with her. Sure, he was becoming more and more aware that she was a smokin’ hot girl but she was also totally cool and smart and classy. They were old buddies, so nothing was going to happen like that, even if it’d been crossing his mind a few times. Okay, a lot of times. He _cared_ about Quistis. He didn’t want to perv out on her and ruin their friendship. Still, he pondered, she’d been throwing some pretty strange vibes his way. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never even fooled around much except for a few crazy parties after Ultimecia, when he’d been so relieved to be alive and the girls had thrown themselves at him like an avalanche. Even then he’d never been too happy with how things went, waking up in some girls bed or that time bare assed in an empty bathtub with all that whipped cream. He wasn’t that kind of guy! And he’d better start remembering that, he thought with a sigh. No more checking Quistis out.

“Check that out,” she murmured, pointing to the white hook of the moon dangling above them. “I haven’t looked at the night sky in a long time.”

She chuckled ruefully; shaking her head as she thought about the haze her life had been for far too long. The time she’d wasted, the chances she might have missed.

“I ought to thank Squall. I feel relaxed,” Quistis sighed.

“About time,” Zell said, his teeth a flash of white in the moonlight.

“I need to thank you too,” Quistis murmured, face still turned to the sky.

Zell startled, staring at her while he tried to puzzle out what she meant. Girl-speak was still pretty new to him, and Irvine’s lessons didn’t seem to apply to Quistis because he had absolutely no idea what she was trying to say. He wished she’d look at him. He was scared she would when she looked _that_ pretty. It was hard to recall the vows he’d just made to himself and the particular reasons why when her hair blew across her face like that, catching against her lips until she brushed it aside. Hyne, she was gorgeous and he was starting to feel like some twelve year old boy hitting puberty around her while his stomach did mad flips.

“What for?” he asked, rocking back on his heels, nervous.

“You woke me up,” she said simply.

Quistis turned her head and smiled at him, a sweet and easy smile he had never seen before. His heart jumped to life in his chest and he took in a deep breath, elated. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, and he nearly crowed with delighted amazement. To do a solid favor for someone like Quistis Trepe was no small feat. Zell felt good. He felt incredible! He punched his fist into his palm, ground the leather together with his knuckles.

“Awesome!” he cried, and Quistis laughed a bit, walking forward into the night once again. He took a deep breath, giddy and crazy and still not understanding why but liking it, before he took off after her, sneakers cutting a swathe through the long summer grass, the silence all they left behind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those gorgeous people as Zell and Quistis are Renan Corbani and Carolina Poqueddo, who are the most stunning people and totally how I imagine our heroes. If anyone takes exception to using them, please let me know and I will take them down.

\--

Zell dragged himself out of his tent at 7 o’clock in the morning, feeling like he’d been sleeping on a plank. Cots sucked worse than the ground! His entire body ached everywhere and he tried to stretch himself out. Broad shoulders needed something to sink into. His hair was jutting out in at least four separate directions instead on the usual one, he could practically feel the bags under his eyes dragging him downward, and something had bit his foot in the night and it itched really bad. He groaned and scrubbed his palms over his face, blinking into the watery morning light. Already the camp was a hive of activity and he shuffled himself in the general direction everyone else seemed to be headed, finding himself in a long line at an impromptu mess tent. He nodded to the chipper Selphie who fell into step beside him and punched him in the arm.  
  
“That’s for stealing my Strange Vision,” she said, sticking out her tongue.   
  
“Sorry,” Zell mumbled, stifling a huge yawn.   
  
“Wow, look at you, misery britches! Outdoor living sure doesn’t agree with you these days,” she grinned, skipping in a wide circle around him. He swiped at her halfheartedly, and then bent down to give his foot a frantic scratch. “You’ve become a pampered little prince all cozy in Balamb castle!”  
  
“It ain’t my fault!” he groaned. “Every single person in every damn tent decided it was a Snore-a-thon! It was like sleeping with a herd of behemoths!”  
  
“Didn’t you bunk with Irvine?” she asked.  
  
“Yea, him. All he did was pout all night like a little baby after you wouldn't...” Zell trailed off, coughing slightly. “It just sucked, okay!”   
  
“The night before didn’t,” Selphie cooed slyly. “I heard all about it from Rinoa!”  
  
Zell perked up, searching for Quistis in the line up of SeeD’s shuffling forward to get whatever food was being served. He hoped she hadn’t had a bad night. She probably knew all kinds of techniques for sleeping comfortably in the field. But if she didn’t, he hoped she had done better than he had. He wondered who she’d shared a tent with, a panicked flash crossing his mind at the thought of the library girl being the lucky one. Wait, should he be thinking like that? He probably shouldn’t, he sighed aloud, giving himself a shake and dragging his mind back to the last thing Selphie had said.  
  
“Heard about what?” he snorted.   
  
“Well,” Selphie chirped, reaching for a plate, “I heard that you saved your little pigtail girl from imminent destruction, whisking her away from the clutches of doom moments before disaster!”  
  
“Somethin’ like that,” he muttered, rubbing his neck self-consciously before snagging a plate himself.   
  
“What’s the matter with you Zelly! Don’t you like her anymore?” Selphie asked, a wide-eyed picture of innocence.  
  
Zell waved a hand to shush her, glancing around to make sure nobody he knew was listening.   
  
“No! Yes! It ain’t that, and maybe it is and I don’t know and you gotta stop askin’ questions this early!” he blurted, shoving food onto his plate without looking at it. Several hash browns tumbled to the grass and one of the cafeteria ladies glared at him.  
  
Selphie went suspiciously quiet and when Zell risked a look at her face she had a calculating glint in her eyes he didn’t much like the look of.   
  
“I saw you walking with Quisty later on,” she said sweetly. “You’ve been spending lots and lots of time with her lately.”  
  
“So what?” he shot back defensively as he squeezed an unhealthy amount of ketchup onto his potatoes from a nearby bottle. “I ain’t allowed to spend time with her?”  
  
“It’s not that,” she hummed, taking a strawberry-pineapple juice box and setting it on her plate. “It’s just that, you know, not many people want to spend time with Quisty.”   
  
She glanced at Zell askance, pretending to heave a sigh while she tamped down a grin. “I love her to death, Zelly, but she’s so... you know, such a stick in the mud!”  
  
“You take that back!” Zell glared, pointing a fork at the brunette. “Quistis ain’t a stick and she ain’t mud! There isn’t anybody else I’d rather hang out with then her! She’s classy and sweet and amazing and smart and…”  
  
He trailed off as Selphie bent over laughing, nearly dropping her plate of food.   
  
“What’s so funny? This ain’t funny, you’re bein’ mean!” he frowned.   
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Zell! I really am. I knew it though! I totally knew you did!” she laughed, doing a happy little dance and dropping her juice in the process. She stooped to pick it up, still giggling.   
  
“I did what?” Zell asked suspiciously.   
  
Selphie sighed, smiling indulgently at her friend. He looked adorable with his hair all askew, buttons misaligned on his uniform and the thunderous little grimace on his handsome face.  
  
“You fell for Quistis,” she said quietly. “You fell hard.”   
  
Fell, dropped, plummeted, dove, plunged, tripped, crashed.   
  
Zell blinked, trying to work up a retort that would deny it, but all the words dried up in his throat. It made painful sense. You didn’t look at a girl the way he’d been looking at Quistis if you didn’t want her. He’d been looking at her in a new light, a different light, a good light, and she’d been growing in his head like a storm for weeks and all he wanted to do was talk to her and touch her every time she was near him. Or even when she wasn’t.   
  
“Oh,” was all he could say, because he had kind of figured that out already without meaning to.   
  
“Oh sweetie,” Selphie sighed, linking her arm through his and pulling him out of the line, plates only half full. “What are you going to do?”  
  
“About what?” Zell asked, confused.   
  
“About falling for her, dummy! Are you going to ask her out? Are you going to wait ten years for some perfect, imaginary time and place to ask her out like you did the library girl?”  
  
“Look Selph, it ain’t like that. It ain’t going to be like that, ever,” Zell mumbled, running his free hand through his hair. “I ain’t all over the library chick either. This thing just up and socked me in the jaw, you know? Quistis is… she’s just smart and hot and she makes my blood fire up and I can’t stop thinkin’ about her or lookin’ for her in every crowd and to me that’s messed up! That scares me. I ain’t good at this kinda thing and I don’t want to ruin nothin’ between us. We got a good thing here. She’s my friend.”

  
Selphie sighed, knowing just how he felt. But you couldn’t hold back when love was on the line!   
  
“Seize the day, Zell!” she grinned.   
  
“I ain’t seizin’ nothin’,” he snorted. “I got heavy hands and I’d end up breakin’ way too much. It’s better to just pretend like nothin’ has changed.”   
  
“Except everything has changed and you know it,” Selphie sniffed.   
  
They walked on a bit in contemplative silence, Zell snagging some of the hash browns he’d managed to spoon up with his bare fingers and popping them in his mouth.   
  
“Oh!” Selphie pointed as they rounded the corner of a tent. “Hi Quisty!”  
  
“What?” Zell yelped, running his hand through his spiky hair in an effort to tidy it and knocking most of his breakfast on the grass. Ketchup streaked his hair.   
  
Selphie cackled, jabbing the straw into her juice and taking a long pull. “You’re so gullible! I was just teasing.”   
  
“That ain’t fair,” Zell muttered. “It’s too early for teasin’.”   
  
“Come on now, gloomy guts, it isn’t so bad!”   
  
“It’s terrible. It’s awful. It’s crazy,” he frowned. “I didn’t mean to start lookin’ at her like that, but she’s so freakin’ strong and beautiful and smart, I suddenly can’t get her out of my mind and that’s not cool.”   
  
“So tell her,” Selphie insisted.   
  
Zell shot her a look, annoyed. “Yea, I’ll get right on that. Hey Quisty, I’m still kinda sweet on some other girl but I can’t stop thinkin’ about you now, which kinda makes me a two timin’ jerk. Want to give it a try?”   
  
“Okay, okay!” Selphie groaned, “I get it! Just sort yourself out or you’re going to lose your chance with either of them!”  
  
“Selph, I never stood a chance with a girl like Quistis Trepe,” Zell shrugged mildly as he finished his food, shoving his breakfast plate into one of the impromptu trashcans scattered around the camp. “Nobody knows that better than me.”   
  
“Oh Zell,” Selphie sighed sadly, zipping her mouth shut with effort. She couldn’t prop Zell up with false hope about Quistis when she wasn’t sure of the blonde’s feelings for him yet. But she wished she could.   
  
“You’re amazing too Zelly,” she soothed.   
  
He sighed and threw a weak grin her way. “I ain’t all bad,” he smiled. “I got my good points.”  
  
They walked on in silence, Zell feeling like his stomach was a (empty) muddled up jumble of puzzle pieces and he didn’t like the final picture. Selphie shouldn’t have got him thinking about all this stuff! He’d been so happy, and that smile Quisty had given him last night had been so sweet. It didn’t get much better than that!  
  
“But what if it does?” he wondered aloud. Selphie looked at him, confused.   
  
“What if what does what?” she asked, laughing.   
  
“What if it gets better than last night?” he asked, grinning again. He had some of his verve back, and punched his fist into the opposite palm. “What if _I_ get better? What if I _can_ be a guy who stands a chance with her? I could do it, Selph! I can make it happen!”   
  
Selphie clapped her hands, glad to have the cheerful Zell back instead of his depressed look-a-like. “That’s the spirit!” she cried.   
  
“But how?” he mused, brightness dampening. Damn, thinking too much in the morning was going to make him sick or something. “We got plans to go fishing later. I could take her out on the boat but what if we don't catch any fish like last time? She's gonna think I'm bad at it!”  
  
Selphie tapped a finger to her lip, looking at him sneakily. “Accentuate the positive, of course! I’ll help.”

  
“The positive?” Zell asked, jumping up and down on the spot a little like he was warming up for a boxing match. He shook out his arms. “I got a cool T-Board?” 

“Oh no no, Zelly,” Selphie grinned, stepping forward and popping up on her tip toes to pat her hands over either side of his very broad, muscular shoulders. “You have a lot more than that.”

  
\--

  
Squall nodded to her briefly when she approached his downgraded office, a glorified tent marked with a few flags to denote the importance of its occupant. A flimsy fold-able table had been set up inside, and Squall was busy marking something down on a piece of paper beside another small stack of them. 

“Repair bills,” he sighed at her unspoken question. “Electrical and Exterminator. Obviously one led to another. We had an infestation of grat larvae. A few must have escaped the training room and mated, and it seems a huge portion of wiring had been destroyed. I’ve had to pay them extra for the emergency call and the fact that they’ve been up all night wiring.”

“We’re lucky we weren’t in flight,” Quistis murmured, shaking her head.

“Small graces,” he muttered.  
  
A long silence fell over them before Squall looked up at her and met her direct stare. He was uncomfortable, knowing the things Rinoa and Selphie had said, seeing the reaction Zell had had to her last night, having to listen to Rinoa gush and moan about doomed romances for a good hour as they went to sleep. Whether Quistis liked Zell or Zell liked Quistis did not seem entirely important to Squall during this sudden emergency, nor in the grand scheme of things.   
  
“I’m here for orders, sir,” she said much to his relief. At least one of the women close to him had their head screwed on straight. He always had great respect for Quistis’s no nonsense attitude and capabilities.   
  
“Thank Hyne,” he muttered, shuffling through his papers. Quistis frowned, confused.   
  
Withdrawing a short list, Squall handed it to her.   
  
“These are the orders. I want everyone back inside and everything in Garden operational by thirteen hundred hours. SeeD’s are required to take down and pack their own tents, we’ve requested clubs and committees help with the mess tent and clean up, Rinoa’s taking roll, so when each set of two is packed up they can filter to her and return inside.”   
  
“My job is?” she asked pointedly. It seemed he had everything well in hand.   
  
“The perimeter. It needs to be the last thing to come down and only when all cadets and SeeD’s are within Garden walls. I need you to take Irvine and Selphie and divide up the sections. Stand sentry till we’re through. I know this is a bit belittling, but the last thing I need is a random encounter with something on the field. There are too many reckless cadets out there.”   
  
Quistis nodded again, wondering why Selphie and Irvine were the ones she was ordered to take. Did Squall sense something about her attitude towards the brawler lately? Did he think it was impacting her performance?  
  
“What about Zell?” she blurted, cheeks immediately flaring pink.   
  
“What about him, Quistis?” he replied slowly.   
  
“What are his orders, Commander,” she hedged.  
  
Squall looked her up and down, face blank. Part of him was annoyed at her bringing her feelings into Garden business, another part of him was amused. He never imagined he’d be an accidental matchmaker between a hot-headed street fighter and a cool-as-ice instructor, let alone two of his closest friends.   
  
“I have Zell on packing and maintenance,” he said carefully. “He’s good with tools, and he had to break some of the doors he forced open last night, so he offered to repair them. I agreed.”  
  
“So there’s nothing… You’re not… I see, Commander.” Quistis stumbled. “I’ll tell Irvine and Selphie.”

"Good," he murmured.   
  
"Good," she coughed.   
  
She left. 

  
\--

  
“Mornin’ Quistis,” Irvine drawled, grinning disarmingly at the unsettled blonde as she exited the tent. Normally she would have been immediately suspicious because the Galbadian was amping up the wattage on that charming smile hard enough to hurt. Alarm bells chimed dully when he swung a lanky arm around her waist and began to steer her towards the east section of the perimeter closest to Garden, but her mind was still back in Squall’s office wondering how much he knew and how foolish her commanding officer thought she was. 

  
“How’s my favorite instructor this fine Balamb mornin’?” he drawled, delighted that she was distracted enough for him to toss that arm around her. Normally he’d have been frozen solid with a glare and Degenerated, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere and while he was too much of a gentlemen to take too much advantage, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to enjoy the curve of her hip. 

  
“Fine,” she replied curtly. 

Was Squall testing her? Had she been so obvious in her distraction that he was doubting her? 

“I heard you, me and Sephie make three today, beautiful. We got perimeter duty till all our wee little colts get rounded back into the stable.” 

“We do,” she murmured distractedly. And the arm around her waist tightened, one wide hand sprawling over her ribs. She frowned slightly, glancing up at the taller man who was smirking, staring straight ahead. She followed his line of sight.

  
“Irvine, what are you – “

  
Oh Hyne. Before her Zell was lifting things. All the things. 

  
He was hefting several of the repackaged tents in each arm like they were cotton candy, nodding at Selphie in front of him, mouth adorably agape. She could perhaps pull one of those tents along the ground behind her, if needed… Zell was carrying as many as he could possible hold and looked completely unphased. How strong _was_ he? 

  
“Howdy, darlin’!” Irvine called, keeping his arm firmly around the suddenly tense Quistis and pulling her forward. 

  
Selphie swung around at the sound of his voice, grinning brightly when she spotted Quistis glued to his side uncomfortably. There was no way Quisty could bolt from Irvine’s sticky hands. Lord knows she’d tried. 

“Hey, hey, come on now man, not cool,” Zell did an agitated little jig as he caught sight of Irvine’s wandering hand, causing the tents to shift haphazardly in his arms. He hated that hand. He wanted to pry it off that curvy hip.

“Hold it Zell!” Selphie ordered. “Look! Your buttons are all willy nilly!”

And quick as a shot her tiny hands flew forward and began unbuttoning the front of his SeeD uniform. 

“Hey now!” he yelped, trying to edge away. The tents swayed ominously.

“I’ll fix them in a second!” she chirped. “Oh! Irvine! We need to get some more tents packed lickity split!” 

And suddenly Irvine’s hand was gone and Selphie was dashing off through a pile of stacked tents, Irvine in quick pursuit, but not before he threw a cocky grin and tipped his hat to a bewildered Zell. 

Quistis knew a set up when she saw one but Zell just looked confused, standing there under that immense weight, disheveled and unsure. 

“Did I just get violated?” he said, laughing suddenly. He shifted forward to slide some of the tents to the ground, edging them forward carefully. After settling them down, he easily shifted the others to the ground. 

“I'm impressed,” Quistis murmured, shaking her head with a smile. 

“What was that Quisty?” he asked, dusting off his hands and placing them on his hips as he turned to her. 

And it was her turn to sink into a hot, wicked pool of lust and want and speechlessness. 

Zell was... Sculpted. So sculpted. That was the only word to define those abs and that chest. That everything. Like a statue. It was ridiculous and her fingers were itching to trail over his muscles and was she walking closer to him? Yes, it appeared she was… because she was standing only a foot or two away while he began to tug off his gloves.

“Here,” she blurted, stepping closer. Zell froze. She froze, hands midair. 

“I mean, there’s no sense pulling off your gloves,” she murmured. He didn’t bother telling her he could do up his shirt with them on no problem. Because, you know, she was standing close enough now that he could see the blush in her cheeks. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and tried to will away his suddenly raging reaction as her slender finger reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled them together. The back of her fingers brushed up his stomach as she closed the buttons and he drew in a breath, tried to disguise it as a cough into his gloved hand. He kept his eyes down on her hands, his fists clenching and flexing against the need to grab her and just… he didn’t know. Everything? 

Quistis was enjoying this far to much, each button allowing her to brush against smooth skin and hard muscle. What would he do if she slid her hands underneath his uniform? She imagined him yelping and skittering away from her, maybe a nervous laugh. It was probably best to just continue buttoning. Finally she reached the top button, and lifted her eyes to meet his. One heartbeat. Two. His eyes were a bright, summer blue and she couldn't look away. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, breathing shallowly. 

Her hands slid away, and despite herself she bit her lip as she felt the muscles on his chest beneath her fingers for that one moment. His eyes dropped to her mouth and he blushed and both of them broke away with a sudden flaring of uncertainty. 

“Yes! Well, we can't have one of our senior leaders wandering around half dressed. It would reflect badly on Garden.” Quistis coughed haltingly, about facing and trying to quiet her racing pulse. 

“That's what I was thinking. I totally get that, ya know?” Zell replied, busying himself by gathering up all the discarded tents he had put down, his face red. “I better get these in. Meet you later for fishing?” 

“Yes, later. Of course. I have duties to attend to,” she responded, and was it just her or was her voice several octaves higher? 

They went their separate directions, and Quistis only stopped and glanced over her shoulder at his impressive back hauling all those tents once. She was proud of herself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am enjoying those mood boards way too much. Again, those two gorgeous people whose images I am playing with are Renan Corbani and Carolina Porqueddo and no harm is meant by using their likenesses as Quistis and Zell. They look just like them to me. So beautiful!

Quistis was exhausted, but she still found herself standing in front of her closet trying to decide what, in her limited wardrobe, she could wear fishing now that she had some experience. And she was coming up with nothing. Dropping her head into her hands for a moment, she went and sat on the edge of her bed and contemplated her options. Maybe it didn't truly matter what she wore but how predictable and bland was she? Zell would no doubt be wearing his usual jacket and his denim shorts, as iconic a part of his wardrobe as ever there was one... but what did it mean that she wanted to shake things up a little? Maybe see his jaw drop again like it had when her hair was down. She bit her lip, hugging herself for a moment when she remembered the heat of his eyes on her. 

  
She plucked the edge of her peach colored skirt with an irritated frown and resolved to go shopping in the near future. When she had finished her grading. And the upcoming mission. And... she would have to make the time for herself, someday. 

  
There was a knock on her door and she stood, striding across the room to open it, and finding a grinning Selphie and a smiling Rinoa behind it. Quistis was immediately leery. 

  
“Hello Quisty,” said Selphie far too sweetly, edging around her into the room. 

Quistis stepped back and turned, taking note of the large bag held in her arms. Behind her, Rinoa shut the door, a small backpack in her own. 

  
“We heard about your fishing trip and wanted to help,” Rinoa explained brightly as Selphie upended the bag onto the bed. They knew her too well. Out tumbled clothing and make up and what looked suspiciously like a slinky ball gown. The blonde stepped forward and plucked up the sparkling silver dress from the pile. 

  
“And you thought evening wear was what I might like to wear on a fishing trip?” she queried wryly. “Am I a lure?”

“That's what we're trying for,” Selphie sang under her breath. Quistis' eyes narrowed. 

“That must be in there by mistake,” Rinoa intervened smoothly, giving Selphie a glare. The other girl grinned, unrepentant.

  
“I am not sure if I need help,” Quistis deflected nervously as she eyed some of the other clothing in the pile. There appeared to be an inordinate amount of ruffles and neon. 

“There's just a few ideas in there. We know you tend to stick to a, uh, mainstream wardrobe and we want you to be comfortable on this date,” Rinoa stopped, gasped, and threw an anxious look at Selphie. “Day! This _day_!”

“This isn't a date, girls,” Quistis frowned. 

  
“Well maybe it should be,” Selphie shrugged. “You two seem to spend a lot of time together these days.”

  
“ _Not_ a date,” she reiterated as she picked up a button up blouse that appeared to have a heap of lace gathered at the neck, cheeks reddening. She tossed it into the no pile. 

  
“Whatever it is, you need a change of clothing,” Rinoa pacified. 

  
“I can't argue that,” Quistis sighed. “It's what I was thinking about when you knocked.”   
“Then let's have a fashion show!” Selphie cried, pumping a fist in the air. 

“I think not,” Quistis deadpanned. 

  
“Kill joy.” Selphie pouted. 

Quistis turned her attention back to the clothes and poked about despairingly. There was nothing in it she would consider appropriate, and some of which she could not bear to think about herself in. Selphie had even kindly included one of her tiny yellow dresses, which would likely look more like a tank top on her much taller self. A simple white t shirt, however, caught her eye. It didn't show any cleavage, didn't seem entirely inappropriate. She picked it up, and behind her Rinoa and Selphie exchanged knowing smiles. Put enough decoys in the pile and the only reasonable choice (such as the outfit they had picked out for her to wear) would become the only choice at all. 

“This seems demure enough,” Quistis hedged. 

  
“Oh and look! This would look good!” Selphie held up a skintight pair of Rinoa's black shorts. Quistis looked aghast. 

  
“Certainly not!” she muttered, and Rinoa arched a brow. “Not that they don't look amazing on you, Rinoa. I would just be concerned that my, um, rear end would be on far too much display.” 

“Who would complain??” Selphie snorted but tossed the shorts aside. 

"I always wear a skirt over them," Rinoa shrugged.

“What about these?” Quistis asked and held up a pair of neat and tidy denim shorts with a rolled hem. No fussy lace, no frayed hem, just a no nonsense pair of shorts. A tad higher than she gravitated towards but justified in the summer heat. 

“So boring!” Selphie sighed, sealing the deal. Quistis nodded resolutely and moved to change in the bathroom. Selphie waggled her eyebrows at Rinoa from behind Quistis, and they quietly high fived when the door shut.

Rinoa quickly gathered the borrowed clothing back into the bag, and they stood waiting for Quistis to come out. 

“Remember to keep your reaction to a minimum,” Rinoa whispered. “Downplay anything and everything.”

"Zell was much easier to get into his stuff," Selphie sighed. "Irvy just handed it to him and told him it would make him look more dashing." 

  
"Dashing...?" Rinoa whispered quizzically. "Is that what he thinks women want?" 

"It's not?" Selphie shrugged. She made the motion for zipping her lips as the bathroom door opened and Quistis stepped out. 

The girls exchanged a gleeful look as Quistis smoothed her hands over her hips and looked at them expectantly, ready to dart back into the bathroom and put her other clothing back on if they so much as whistled or laughed. 

“That looks really nice,” Rinoa chirped. 

“Yeah, boring but good,” Selphie said, shaking her head vigorously. 

Quistis looked like a sexy poster men put up in their dormitories and garages. All she was was long legs and a tight white t-shirt and gorgeous blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. 

“I admit, its very cooling,” she murmured, trying to catch sight of herself in the mirror. Rinoa stopped her, stepping close and taking hold of her hair. 

“We need to fix that up,” she said, holding out her hand to Selphie who put an elastic in her waiting palm. Rapidly, Rinoa drew the length of Quistis' hair over her shoulder and plaited it into a loose braid. She tweaked it subtly while Quistis stood, unsure, and Selphie darted over to her closet and dragged out her open toed flats. 

  
“You don't have any sandals!” she complained, but put them at Quistis' feet. Obligingly, Quistis stepped into them as Rinoa finished her hair, feeling as though there was more going on than she could put her finger on.

They stepped back and admired their handiwork. 

“You look ready!” Selphie nodded. 

“Just let me look in the mirror,” Quistis frowned, but Rinoa shook her head and tapped her wrist. “There's no time! You're going to be late!”

Selphie threw open the door and the two of them pulled a resisting Quistis through it.

“But we never set a time!” she protested and was soundly ignored. 

“I haven't had lunch!” she hissed. “I need coffee!”

“You need sunshine and fun!” Selphie said, her arm an iron band around the taller girls.

“Besides, we have that covered to,” Rinoa said, deftly slipping the backpack she had been carrying over Quistis's shoulder. “There's a thermos full of coffee in there and food just for you!”

They ushered her into the elevator and hit the button for the car deck and Selphie waggled a key in Quistis's face before she even opened her mouth to ask. She recognized the key fob for one of the sports cars immediately. Her eyes narrowed.

  
“Are you guys going to walk me the _entire_ way?” she snapped. “I'm not trying to get out of this!” 

“We know, but we are having way too much fun with this!” Selphie snickered. The doors opened and the cool breeze over the concrete made Quistis very aware of her bare legs and arms. Rinoa darted forward, snatching the key from Selphie and unlocking the car, opening the door and standing back with a flourish. 

“Your chariot awaits!” she grinned. 

Shaking her head, Quistis moved to the car and tried to be as nonchalant as possible. “Is Zell coming soon?” 

“Irvine already dropped him off at the Dinchty Dock,” Selphie said. “He needed to get things ready.” 

“Things ready?” Quistis frowned, settling herself into the front seat and carefully putting the bag with the precious coffee on the floor. “Such as?” 

Both Rinoa and Selphie looked blankly back at her. “Fishy things?” Selphie said carefully. 

“Well, I'm going to go now,” Quistis said slowly, glancing suspiciously between the two. “Thanks... for this.” 

She closed the door behind her and watched as the two girls fluttered away towards the elevator, looking exceedingly pleased with themselves. Could they be any more obvious? She should have known Rinoa would spill her secrets about Zell to Selphie. They were not very subtle in their excitement, though she supposed she could see the appeal of setting up their most strait laced, boring friend. However, they seemed to have forgotten the potentially disastrous fallout that could occur in this situation. Too much risk for fractured friendships and ongoing discomfort.

  
With a sigh, she adjusted the seat for her height and buckled herself in, carefully checking her mirrors and making sure all safety requirements were met. They had to be, in an excessively fast sports car like the electric blue monstrosity she was currently ensconced within. She turned the key and the engine roared to life, thrumming beneath her in a way that would no doubt make Zell envious. She knew exactly why Selphie had picked this car. Taking a deep breath she pulled out of Balamb and began to drive towards the ocean. She was glad for the reprieve of being alone. It would give her some time to think, to strategize for the day ahead. She had to plan her tactics for... not doing anything rash. Because Hyne knew she wanted to. 

  
\-- 

Zell heard the car _long_ before he saw it. It was definitely the blue ZM5E that he had been hungrily eyeing since Squall had brought it back to Garden. He would know that roar anywhere and he silently thanked Selphie, his partner in crime, for at least allowing him to see it in action. Eagerly, he hopped up and jogged towards the area they had parked before, watching the low slung muscle car purr into the lot. His eyes were glued to the sunlight flaring off the paint job as it slid in front of him and it took him a longer moment than was polite to drag his eyes to the car door and see Quistis extending her long legs out of the front seat and standing up. She gave him a small wave and he nearly stumbled backwards in shock. 

  
“Dammit! Hyne!” he cursed and jerked his fist up to his mouth to bite his knuckle hard as he quickly did an about face and stared at the ocean. 

_Breathe! Breathe!_ He urged himself, because his heartbeat had just jacked up to something that had to be _completely_ unhealthy and all the blood had rushed to his face but now it was running _elsewhere_ and he had been _way_ too quick to thank Selphie because this was absolutely _beyond cruel_. 

  
He had never seen Quistis with this much skin exposed. She was dressed in little denim shorts and a white t-shirt that clung to every hill and valley she had and Hyne knew she had plenty, and her endless legs were on display and she looked absolutely adorable and sexy and unreal and he couldn't _handle_ this! Dammit! He did an quick, agitated shuffle on his toes with nervous energy. 

“Zell?” she asked curiously, slinging a bag over her shoulder and shutting the car door. She locked it before sliding the key in her pocket. 

Zell laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair as he spun back around. His eyes ran up her legs, stopped on her waist, paused on her chest and his cheeks flared red as he threw his gaze back to her feet. _What are you doing to me Selphie?_ he groaned inwardly.

“All good!” he yelped. “That's a, that's a really good outfit for fishing. For everything. For everyone really, its perfect. You should wear it more, or less if you wanted. Less? But why would you wear less? I mean, less is more and stuff but like... Hyne.” 

He hung his head defeatedly and tried to shut the motor of stupid that was apparently running his tongue, off. 

“Thank you?” she said, eyeing him oddly. But was there a little blush in her own cheeks? He thought there might be. 

“Fishing. Let's go do that,” he blurted, stepping back to allow her to pass. 

This was apparently his worst idea ever though, because he was now confronted with an unobstructed view of her perfect, denim glad rear end and long bare thighs that he could stare at without her even knowing it and that wasn't okay because Quistis was a woman and he respected her! His hormones were not listening to his common sense though and he bit his knuckle again, hard, to try to smarten up. 

“The girls said Irvine had dropped you off earlier to set things up?” she asked over her shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he coughed, forcing his eyes to stay riveted on the ocean line. “Had to get the boat ready. It is ready, now. The boat is.”

He winced, totally rattled. 

Quistis, walking ahead of him, was feeling much the same and resolved to smack both girls in the back of the head when she returned to Garden. There was absolutely no way the tight black t-shirt currently clinging to Zell's shoulders and chest was his own. He favored baggy clothes and color and this was the exact opposite of that. He may as well have been wearing nothing at all, which is what she imagined had been the point because her mouth had actually watered at the thought of running her hands over every defined muscle she could see in painful detail. 

Had both Quistis and Zell been played by their friends?

None of that mattered though. She was here in the sun and breeze once again and ready to enjoy a relaxing afternoon with Zell. They were completely alone, no disruptions and distractions and Library Girls and emergencies. Alone.

"It's this one!" Zell cried out, jogging ahead of her and stopping along the dock at a small boat and clambering right in.

He held out his hand to her, a happy smile once again lighting up his face.   
Quistis, who had been riding water ships since she was a Cadet and was licensed in practically every vehicle their world had to offer for a reason, was instantly charmed that he even thought to offer her his hand.   
She carefully placed her own in his and allowed him to assist her into the small, gently rocking boat. Taking a seat, she took a deep breath and offered him a smile in return as he undid the ropes holding them to the dock. 

"So, what are we going to catch today?" she asked. 

Zell shrugged happily, settling himself across from her and reaching back to start the small engine. It thrummed quietly to life. 

"Let's go find out!" he grinned. 

\--

"... And the monster and I just looked at one another in disbelief, even though I could see every status effect I'd just thrown at him doing its job. I don't know who was more disgusted between the two of us!"

Zell burst out laughing as Quistis finished her story, picturing the horrified looks on both their face as she had cast Bad Breath for the first time after duking it out with a Malboro. He'd seen the mess in action during their battles together and admittedly it was not a skill he envied.

"Magic is so weird!" he laughed, shaking his head and leaning forward to place the fishing rod in his hand into one of the holders attached to the side of the boat. "The first time I cast Dolphin Blow I thought I'd fallen asleep and was dreamin' or somethin' cause where did that come from? Why dolphins? What do they even do? And all that water just rushes up and gets my shoes wet every damn time."

"I can't even begin to offer an explanation," Quistis said, smiling ruefully.

"You ever read in all those books about anyone changin' their spells? It'd be way cooler if I could change it to like... behemoth blow. Call up something with a little more flair and strength. Hyne, even a cactuar or two would be better."

"I don't know, I kind of like the dolphins," she snickered, nose scrunching as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not even realizing that the sound made Zell's heart stutter in his chest. When had he ever heard Quistis snicker?

"I have read about very powerful spell casters altering their spells years ago but it seems to do more harm than good," she said, looking thoughtful. "I suspect there is something intrinsic within each form of magic, something about your nature that forms it. To alter that goes against the very nature of your being and isn't something I'd recommend."

"So I'm stuck with Flippy and Lippy, huh?" he sighed, shaking his head with a smile.

"You named them?" she asked, chuckling.

"Right now I did," he shrugged. "They ain't like Angelo or nothin' though. They don't stick around. They ain't pets, they're just an apparition or a hallucination or whatever. For some reason my magic likes bringin' me an aquarium."

"Most of your limit breaks are very flaring and very strong, Zell. Have no fear. Be glad you don't share my inclination for Blue Magic; you could be coughing up fire or shooting hot lasers out of your eyes."

"Ever forget to take off your glasses?" he asked her with a waggle of his brows.

She laughed, throwing her head back so the long column of her throat was exposed and the chime of her happiness melted around him and over the water. Holding his breath in case his heart tried to escape his chest, Zell couldn't remember ever seeing her quite like that. He grinned along with her because that was all he could do.

"Actually yes, I did several times when I was learning to harness it and didn't know quite what was happening. The predilection towards blue magic wasn't widely understood, still isn't to be honest. Essentially stealing powers from the monsters we defeat? There's a stigma to it that honestly only now is being fought against because of my so called status. There aren't many books about the subject and the ones I have managed to find aren't very thorough. Most of what I know I've learned in the field. I lost more than one pair of glasses to lasers. Lost a lot of good stuff to Fire Breath and Aqua Breath too," she huffed.

"You ought to write your own book," he shrugged. "Or at least a paper. Do a study or somethin' that people can learn from."

Quistis opened her mouth to give him a list of reasons why she couldn't but stopped herself. Those were all excuses anyway. She had the knowledge and the skill set and nobody knew it better than the Orphanage gang. False modesty served no purpose here.

"I just might," she smiled at him.

She followed Zell's example and put the rod she had been jiggling loosely in her hands in the holder. She reached for the bag Rinoa had packed and dug around until she found the thermos full of coffee that was promised. Her hands brushed against something else and she pulled it out cautiously, finding a bag of large chocolate chip cookies.

"Hey, I'll take one or all of those!" Zell grinned, and smirking she handed them across to him.

"The girl's supplied them," she murmured, concentrating on pouring the caffeine into the lid despite the waves rocking them. "They seemed to be quite busy today."

"Yea? Irvine swung by when I got back to my room and told me he'd got me this shirt and I'd be rude not to wear it, so I put it on," he said, plucking at the black tee with an innocent smile before taking a bite of cookie. "I think its too small but I didn't want to hurt his feelings."

"It fits perfectly," she hedged, trying not to eye him like he was a steak and she was a starved chimera. She resolved to speak to Irvine later.

"So that was crazy last night, wasn't it?" Zell asked eagerly as he finished off his treat. "Shook it up a little!"

"Indeed," she sighed, sipping her coffee contentedly. " Definitely pointed out some flaws in our current modus operandi. There's always room for improvement."

She trailed off in thought, frowning a bit as she considered the potential improvements that could be made regarding emergency evacs and reminding herself to go over the protocols for in-flight evacuations as well.  
The ocean rocked them gently in the small bay he had brought them too, far away from the larger sports boats and small scale commercial rigs. Sometimes splashes and laughter carried across the water but for the most part it was just them, the hot sunshine, and the blue sea.

Across from her Zell felt a stupidly dopey grin spreading over his face but couldn't even begin to hide it. Quisty was sitting there looking all focused and intense and using words like modsoperends or whatever and talking to him like he was someone who could hold up his end of the conversation with her. And... why couldn't he anyway? He was always selling himself too short.

"There were some problems with electrical shorts and the doors not openin' that should probably get a once over," he added. "If I ain't around, those doors would be pretty tough to open. Not to blow my own horn or nothin' but most of the SeeD's would take a lot longer than me, and if there's a fire or somethin' they might not have time to waste."

Quistis turned her eyes to his, as blue as the sky overhead, and Zell felt those butterflies zinging inside again.

"Thank you," she smiled. "That's a very valid point. I'll make the necessary suggestions to Squall."

He tried not to look too pleased with himself. He failed, and Quistis smiled at him for a long moment, recognizing that she was allowing far too much to be read in her expression but unable to swallow it back. They stared at one another, warm. The moment faded however, along with her smile, when she remembered something. She broke eye contact and took another pull of coffee, steadying her nerves.

"I, uh, you found your Library Girl inside. Did you get the chance too ask...?" she asked, leaning forward and pretending to fiddle with her fishing rod as though she knew what she was doing.

"Oh! Uh..." Zell swallowed and scratched the back of his head as the bubble of happiness within him popped. "Her name? No, I kinda forgot."

"No, not her name," she frowned and shot him a look. "Though you should know it by now. No, did you finally ask her on that date?"

Zell blinked at her, his face troubled and hungry and sad all at the same time. He looked away across the water, the stark black of his tattoo curling along his cheekbone.

"I wasn't feelin' it," he said quietly. "Been a lot on my mind lately."

"I see," Quistis said, though she didn't. She had suspicions however, and wasn't sure how to even begin to address them. The heated looks, the blushes, the excitement. It was all almost more frightening if it wasn't just one sided. "If you need... help, I can..."

"No," he said flatly, shaking his head. He met her eyes. "This is somethin' I gotta figure out myself."

Seeking solace in her coffee, Quistis looked away and finished the now tepid drink.

Silence fell over the boat and Quistis wanted to recapture the lightheartedness that had been so comfortable and good between them but had no idea how. She had shattered it apart by asking that question but what else could she have done? What was the sense in pretending the other girl didn't exist? The breeze lifted up and cooled her bare skin, goosebumps prickling over her despite the sunshine. Zell was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, jiggling his feet against the wood and apparently studying the grain with great intensity.

Zell didn't get it. Had he been reading her all wrong? Sometimes the way she looked at him, responded to him, made him think that maybe she was feeling those same butterflies he was. But asking about the Library Girl threw him a left hook he'd dropped his guard for. If she was so eager to toss him at another girl that probably meant she wasn't into him. Which meant that he had been chasing after the impossible again, which wasn't totally unexpected because it had seemed like a pretty slim chance that he'd had a shot with a woman like her anyway.

But that just sucked. Like he had just lost the final round of a Triple Triad tournament against Seifer and then the jerk had beat him in a bare-knuckle brawl in front of all his friends kinda sucked.

Was diving off the boat and swimming for shore an option right now? Probably not a mature way to solve the overwhelming embarrassment he was feeling but it was tempting.

"Looks like we ain't gonna have much luck today and the suns startin' to go down," he said slowly, itching to get off this boat and go punch something. His chest hurt like he'd been round housed and he felt like a dope. He needed to think, far away from Quistis and her long legs and soft eyes. "We'd better get back."

Quistis looked up, startled. The sun was lower in the sky and the breeze that was ruffling his hair and keeping the worst of the summer heat at bay was cooler but it was still early. She didn't want to go yet. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a rude fist. She'd hurt him, and didn't even know how.

"Of course," she said carefully, schooling her face into something cool and marble. "I need to check over my lesson plans anyway since I'm back to teaching soon, after the weekend."

He smiled weakly and pulled their rods back into the boat. She smiled just as weakly back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute but stupid.

There was no other excuse for it, and no other name to give it. A day and a half after their disastrous departure from the waterfront, Quistis was sulking. After an exceedingly awkward goodbye where Zell had shoved his hands in his pockets and made a very bare excuse about needing to go visit his Ma, ie he did not even want to ride back in the _sports car_ with her, Quistis had practically fled back to the solace of her quarters and hid.

No amount of knocking by Selphie or Rinoa had been answered. In fact, she had shut off her lights and hidden herself beneath the hot spray of the shower for far longer than was strictly healthy. The noise was soothing, it helped ease her humiliation and hurt. Zell hadn't even pretended he hadn't wanted to get away from her. Or at least he was so poor at it that he'd been unable to.

Face glacial, she had nodded and swept herself into the car and roared away. Admittedly, it had been satisfying to roar out of the parking lot in a furious peel of rubber and sound. It hadn't made her feel any better though, in the end. Her pride was working against her here and she knew it. Knew that if she just tried to talk to him, perhaps she could clarify with him what she'd been feeling. But clarifying it would mean admitting it. And admitting it frightened her.

She didn't even understand what had happened! One minute sunshine and laughter, the next stilted silence and avoiding eye contact. All she had done was ask if he had asked the Library Girl out. Was he that sensitive about it? Was he angry with her for putting pressure on him? Had he been upset that he'd wasted the opportunity and she'd reminded him? Was it about her? Was he uncomfortable sharing with her? And if so was it because he felt the same...

No, she couldn't fall down that thought process again. She was getting herself nowhere and it was time to pull herself from the morass and function again. No more pity party. She wasn't going to be able to avoid the Orphanage Gang after the weekend.

That was why she was now deep within the shelves of the Garden library, pulling every book and paper on Blue magic she could find out so she could begin assembling notes for her own paper. Something to take her mind off the messy emotional drama she had found herself mired within and prove that she was above it all. That she could handle anything and everything necessary.

She was cracking open a small volume entitled Monsters and Myth to skim when a quiet voice crept past her mess of thoughts, trailing off awkwardly.

“Can I help you with anything…”

Turning around with a sense of dread, Quistis felt her spine stiffen when she caught sight of wide brown eyes, a precisely pressed SeeD uniform and dark hair in a shiny little ponytail. It didn’t make her feel any better that she had to look _down_ to meet the girl’s eyes. Her height was a sore point on a good day and she wondered absently if this girl made Zell feel tall and strong when he loomed over her.

Library Girl, her mind automatically labelled. Main Rival, her heart (un) helpfully supplied.

“Instructor Trepe,” she murmured shyly, blushing hard. “I was actually hoping to find you here. I have something I’d like to ask.”

Quistis shut the book she was holding, straightening herself up despite her height and nodding curtly. She had no idea what to say to this girl. Usually she would have sent her on her way with a civil nod or smiled coolly and asked her to continue, but now she wanted to take her by the shoulders and _shake_ her.

How much do _you_ like him? What do you have that I don’t?

She settled for closing the book she was holding, deliberately calm, and sliding it back into the shelf with languid grace. Library Girl was still standing there, watching her with large brown eyes as if she held the secrets of the world in her face. Quistis hoped to Hyne she wasn’t a Trepie.

“Yes?” she asked, deliberately giving the girl her best teaching glare. It was the one she used to intimidate her more rebellious students and it usually was enough to shove them back in line.

Library Girl’s lip was trembling, she noticed, and she was hugging a stack of books close to her chest as if they’d shield her from harm. She was so utterly _timid_ , how could she ever expect to live up to Zell's energy and verve?

“I,” she blushed, “was wondering if you could…” she stopped, losing her nerve, and Quistis felt shame flood her. The other girl hadn’t done anything wrong and here she was acting like a first class bully.

Softening her look, Quistis sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Go on,” she prompted, as gently as she could. “I'm happy to help.”

“I just, well, I know that you’re friends with Ze- Mister D-Dincht, and I hoped you c-could give him this for me…”

Library Girl stuck out a small white envelope. Quistis looked at it as though it was about to sprout fangs and latch onto her.

Oh hyne no.

Mister Dincht?

But Quistis saw her hand moving without her apparent consent and taking the proffered paper from the girl.

“Certainly,” she said woodenly, misery rooting itself firmly in her stomach when the girl smiled gratefully and scurried back out of the aisle with a polite thank you.

Quistis stared at the envelope as if it were a bomb, hating Zell for suddenly becoming so much more in her eyes, hating Library Girl for seeing it first and hating herself for always, always being too late in matters of the heart.

\--

“Okay Zelly, its time to spill the beans!”

Selphie had cornered Zell mid T-boarding spree on the car deck, where he'd been trying tricks that forced him to concentrate on not breaking his neck instead of moping over Quistis Trepe. Admittedly they were pretty awesome.

She hadn't shown up at breakfast that morning. Or lunch. He'd checked and even came back to the cafeteria like ten times to check if he'd missed her. Also the library. And the staff lounge. And the training center. She was nowhere to be found and it was eating him alive.

“Ain't got no beans to spill, Selph,” he muttered, doing a smooth kick flip and landing it easily. He snatched up the board and carried it to the side, throwing himself down on concrete in a boneless heap.

“I believe that almost as much as I believe we haven't seen Quistis because she's busy training for the cheerleading squad,” she snickered.

Zell's mind zipped there faster than he could stop it, imagining a tiny pleated skirt and a sweater with his initials on it before he wrenched his brain away. What a pervert he was turning out to be when it came to Quisty! He groaned and dragged up his knees, ducking his head between them and covering his head with his arms.

“Fishin' didn't go so well,” he snorted, muffled. “I went to visit my Ma instead of ridin' back with her is all.”

“So wait, you left her at the dock and ran off to see your mom?” Selphie asked, confused.

“I didn't run off,” he denied indignantly. “I just kinda... had to be elsewhere suddenly. Right then.”

“But _why_ , Zelly? You two were getting along so good!”

“Yeah, well, I guess not as good as I thought,” he muttered.

Selphie dropped herself beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. She leaned her head against his shoulder after a moment and he scrubbed his hand through his hair roughly as he sat back up. His chest felt as twisted and tight as a rubber band ball.

“I thought maybe yesterday I could find out if she was feelin' it too. I wanted to... I was so happy just bein' with her! But then she asked why I hadn't asked out the Library Girl after the evacuation last night. Seemed surprised. Asked if she could _help_.”

“Oh,” Selphie murmured, tapping her finger against her chin.

“You weren't there Selphie. You don't know how hard it was and the way she was lookin', I couldn't figure myself out and I panicked like an idiot. How can I be talkin' about how I feel about her while she's askin' me why I didn't ask another girl out? That doesn't scream _interested_ to me.”

“It doesn't scream disinterest either Zell,” she said wryly. “She's just as bad at this as you are. How do you know she wasn't testing the waters?”

“I messed up Selph. I insulted her by ditchin'. Pissed her off pretty good if I can read Quistis-speak at all because I haven't seen her all damn day. It was like lookin' at her from before we started talkin' again. She shut me right out.”

“Than apologize, you goof!”

“For _what_ , Selphie? For realizin' I ain't good enough for her? For seein' she isn't into me and turning into a giant baby about it? This is _way_ more complicated than I wanted anythin' to be and I don't even know what I want to say to her. All I know is that this hurts.”

“That's because you both are idiots,” Selphie huffed, throwing out her arms and straighteneing her legs out before her. “Hey, do you like me? Yes? Sugar beans that's sweet, lets be sweethearts! Or no? Sour sauce, too bad, let's move on and still be friends!”

Zell flicked her a look. “Big talk from a girl whose been skirtin' around Irvine's feelin's for years.”

“Irvy and I are our own kettle of fish Zelly, and keep your nose out of it! This is about _you_ and Cool-as-ice Quistis Trepe!”

“I'd talk to her if I could _find_ her,” he moaned, fisting his hands in his hair and yanking. “But she's ducking all of us and you know it!”

“She has been suspiciously absent,” Selphie sighed.

She wasn't about to admit that she and Rinoa had practically knocked a hole in her door and had totally seen her lights go from on to off last night so she _was_ in there. They hadn't had any more success than he had in getting to her. Rinoa figured if she was avoiding them this much than she clearly wanted time alone so she'd stopped Selphie from shoulder checking the door. Quitter.

“You've been hiding too, Zelly,” she said, “You're hanging out in the garage. Nobody hangs out in the garage.”

“Maybe they should start,” he muttered. “It's cool down here.”

“Zell,” she warned.

He turned to her, scrubbing his gloved hands across his chin. He'd forgotten to shave this morning in his headlong rush to get to breakfast early enough to see Quistis. The leather rasped against his skin.

“I really like her,” he said earnestly, openly in the way only Zell could be. “More then I've ever liked anyone. I want to be a better guy for her. I want to show her what I can be. But what do I do if she don't feel the same way about me?”

Giving her words some careful thought, Selphie traced her finger along the patterning of his T-Board.

“I can't give you an answer to that, Zelly. You have to decide if its a risk you are willing to take,” she sighed. “But Quistis can't hide forever. She'll probably be at dinner, so maybe you'll get a chance to talk to her then.”

Ruefully, he smiled, cheered somewhat. “You're right! I'll get a shot. I can fix this. Thanks!”

Selphie threw her arms around him, squeezing hard. “I've always got your back, Zelly! Even if its helping you try to confess your messy, sloppy, confusing feelings for a very sexy blonde instructor!”

Pushing her gently off, Zell grinned. “Yeah, I know you do.”

\--

Quistis was sitting in her bedroom, hands folded neatly in her lap as she focused firmly on the tips of her boots. The envelope was burning a hole in her pocket. She couldn't destroy it, was far above snooping, but was all out avoiding Zell in order to put off giving it to him. Nobody was going to come looking for her in her room for at least an hour as it was dinner time and they'd be sitting down to eat before they realized she missed their unofficial dinner appointment. That would not go unmarked.

She needed time to think, to breath and calm down without Rinoa's concern hanging over her, without Squall's disinterested censure, without Zell's smiles that were sure to make her feel as though she was being punched in the stomach as she handed the letter over.

It wasn't far fetched to assume that Library Girl had taken the initiative and finally decided to push their flirtation to the next level after Zell's rescue. She could be holding the catalyst to a whole new romance in her pocket and she was selfish and childish for trying to stand in its way even to this small degree.

Yet here she was, avoiding her friends, avoiding _him_ in the hopes of buying herself more time to figure this out. To intervene? To confess that she was _feeling_ things for him?

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and stood. This was not who she was, hiding behind a locked door with petty jealousy ripping apart her insides. She was a grown woman, an accomplished instructor, a world saving hero, and a good friend. Bracing herself with a firm nod, she walked to her door and put her hand on the knob, stiffly opened it and marched into the hall. She could do this. Her pettiness was not an admirable trait. To whatever end this led to, the right thing to do would be to give Zell the letter.

If he was even interested in speaking to her after the way he had ducked out on her the other evening.

"Tough day?" a smooth voice drawled from behind her and Quistis turned, catching sight of Irvine leaning against the wall behind her, looking rather official in his seldom worn SeeD uniform.

"No," she said automatically. "I'm fine."

"You are," he winked, pushing off the wall and coming to stand before her, "but that ain't why I came to fetch you."

"Fetch me?" she shrugged. "I'm only twenty minutes late for dinner."

"Which is the Quistis equivalent to twenty four hours past the rendezvous time," he joked mildly.

She shot him an arch look as he fell into step beside her.

"I was thinking," she admitted.

"A useful pastime," he nodded.

Narrowing her eyes at the man who swaggered beside her even without his trench coat and his gun, Quistis tried to figure out why he'd come as well as tamp down her disappointment and relief that Zell had not.

"What is it Irvine?"

He tossed a grin her way, even though she was long past immune to his ridiculously good looks.

"Can't a guy just come make sure his friend is feeling okay when she acts out of character?"

"She's been doing too much of that lately," Quistis muttered as they approached the elevator.

"Just been noticing a thing or two lately, is all," he replied smoothly. "You seem happy."

"I don't feel it at this particular juncture," she snorted and stepped inside, the Galbadian following behind her and leaning against the far wall.

"What's got you so wound up?" he asked innocently and she shrugged.

"I thought snipers were supposedly good at noticing things," she said and smirked at him, crossing her arms and coming to lean on the wall beside him.

"We are _very_ good at noticing things," he drawled, "so you ought to just take whatever is botherin' you so bad out of your pocket and deal with it."

Shaking her head ruefully she did just that, holding the white envelope out like it was going to blow up. "Library Girl gave me this to give to Zell."

Irvine nodded slowly as the elevator came to a halt on the right floor.

"So it’s a good thing Rinoa and Selphie had to physically restrain him from charging up to your room after you were five minutes late? They sent me instead and I _might_ have taken the scenic route."

"I think you overestimate his concern for me," Quistis frowned.

The doors opened and in a torrent of color and noise Zell came tumbling through them, Selphie clinging to his back with her thin arms locked around his neck while Rinoa yanked hard on his belt as she tried to pry him backwards.

"And I think you underestimate it," Irvine grinned.

"Quistis!" Rinoa gasped, releasing her grip on the brawler and stepping back. "You're late for dinner!"

Selphie dropped down from Zell's broad shoulders and tried to catch her breath, laughing. "I thought I was going to get squished like a bug!"

Zell, now that he was standing before Quistis, did not know what to say. He straightened up and rubbed his neck, shooting his small friend a hurt look. "I'd never hurt you Selph."

"Oh Zelly, I know that!" she giggled.

"What took so long?" he asked, pointing at Irvine. "You went to get her forever ago!"

"We never get any quality time," the cowboy smirked, throwing his arm around Quistis and pulling her close.

She promptly shrugged him off, lifting her nose imperiously and stepping away. " _Quality_ isn't how I'd describe it."

Irvine laughed, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain.

"Wait, what?" Zell bristled, looking between the two. "What does that mean? Quality what?"

Hope struggled to life pathetically in her chest at his reaction and Quistis shook her head. "Nothing Zell, a poor joke."

Sliding his arms over the shoulders of Selphie and Rinoa, Irvine corralled them out of the elevator, throwing a wink back towards the blondes while he began to distract them with the _nearly_ made up tale of where he found Quistis.

"That guy," Zell glared at his back.

Quistis cleared her throat and he turned to her, face flushing when he realized they were alone in that tiny space together and the doors were shutting. Oh Hyne, yep, they were shutting.

"You were takin' a long time, and we thought... I was gonna make sure you were okay after I kinda ditched you, and I'm really super sorry... but I..."

His heart was pounding in his chest. He had rehearsed everything he'd wanted to say but why couldn't he remember it? Damn, she smelled really good. He shook himself, all his resolve to be smarter and less dopey around her melting fast.

"Here," she said firmly and held an envelope out to him.

He took it curiously, glancing down at the loopy writing on the front. Who knew you could put so many curlicues on the letter Z?

"Thanks Quisty! What is it?" he asked. A gift?

"Your library girl. She asked me to give it to you," she coughed awkwardly into her hand and then crossed her arms, looking pointedly at the wall above and to the right of his head.

"Oh... kay," he said, holding the letter now with a tad more reverence, Quistis thought miserably.

His thoughts had ground to an awkward halt when she told him who it was from. He felt knotted up inside, cursing himself and cursing circumstance and all these complications when he was just trying to do the right thing. Why had she given it to Quistis of all people? He swallowed.

She was suddenly even less hungry than she’d been earlier. He was lost as to what to do here.

"I'm going to go back to my room," she said. "I ate earlier. I have work to do. I need to be... there."

Zell frowned, standing on his tip toes and trying to meet her eyes. "Quisty?"

The elevator doors opened and two girls stepped in, forcing the two to take a step apart.

"I'm fine," she said coolly. "Your food will get cold."

Zell glanced down at the letter in his hand than back at her, standing with her arms crossed at the far side of the elevator with what felt like a hundred miles between them.

"Sure," he said slowly, moving back out of the doors into the cafeteria. His stomach was heavy as a stone. "I'll see you later."

She nodded and said nothing and the doors closed. She hadn't met his eyes once.

\--

Zell smiled and waved energetically at the shyly smiling Library Girl as he jogged to the table and pulled out the chair beside her.

“Quisty gave me your note!” he said, a tad too loudly because she glanced around nervously and her cheeks turned red.

“What’d you wanna see me for?” he asked eagerly.

“N-nothing. I mean, something, but… but I don’t really…” she trailed of lamely.

There was a moment of awkward silence. She played with the small stack of books sitting before them on the table and Zell tapped his feet against the floor.

“Would you thank Instructor Trepe for me?” she asked finally.

“Why don’t you thank her yourself?” Zell asked innocently.

Ducking her head, she reached back and fiddled with the end of her ponytail.

“Me? I, um, I find her kind of intimidating. It was scary asking her to give you my letter,” she explained, voice lowered to a tremulous whisper.

Zell blinked, startled at her timidity. He had thought she was just shy around him. Was she scared of everything?

“Scared of Quisty? No way, she’s awesome!” he laughed, conveniently forgetting how unapproachable he had found her up until a few weeks ago. “She seems all icy and stuff at first, but if you get to know her she’s the best, you know? All warm and sweet like sunshine or something.”

“Oh,” Library Girl said, smiling. Her cheeks flushed and she played with the edge of her skirt, eyes lowered bashfully. “You must know her very well.”

“Hyne yea! We traveled the freakin’ world together!” he said, gesticulating wildly. “Ain’t no girl cooler than Quisty! She just flicks that whip of hers and baddies are fallin’ left, right and center! She's real special,” he finished softly, smiling. 

The feel of her small hand on his arm froze him.

“You really admire your friends,” she said, smiling.

Zell paused, his heart stumbling painfully when it skipped over her words.

“I do,” he said, swallowing and rubbing his neck.

_But_ , he thought, panicked, _it ain’t supposed to hurt when she gets called that. Quisty_ is _my friend even if she ain't talkin' to me now. It don’t matter how much fun I have with Quisty or how smart she is or how gorgeous she is or how her hair is all silky or how she smells like honey or how much ass she kicks, she ain't more than my friend and she practically set me up with Library girl which was kind of a huge hint that they were just friends._

“Are you alright?” she asked, and he snapped out of his stupor with a jerk.

“Yea! Never better!” he croaked, voice unexpectedly weak.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Quistis?

“Are you sure?” Library Girl was asking, all dark eyes and cute little furrowed brow.

“I think I gotta be honest here,” he began, but a flash of golden hair caught in the corner of his eye and his attention was immediately snared.

Quistis was striding past fully engrossed in her book, and she looked so damn amazing and officious and classy in her little glasses and her perfect uniform. He was out of his chair and hurrying after her before he had even realized it, his heart thumping for reasons he ignored because they were so damn complicated. The last time he had seen her had been behind the elevator doors as they closed and his heart had been aching ever since. It was like they'd reverted back to before Squall had made her go fishing with him. It was like before that, when she was his Instructor, Cool-as-Ice-Quistis-Trepe. He _missed_ her. 

“Quisty! Hey!” he called in greeting.

She kept going. Had she not heard him?

He stopped, torn between embarrassment and hurt. He knew he needed to head back and sit down with Library Girl again and explain how his feelings had changed but he was frozen in place, staring at Quistis’ slim back and perfectly rigid posture. They were so far past this it was practically mythology so why was she acting this way?

“Quisty?” he asked, trying again.

She kept her back turned, and he would have been furious and hurt at being so ignored if he hadn’t caught sight of her anxiously tapping foot. Instructor Trepe didn’t do the weird stuff that girls seemed to do to guys when they were angry, like cold shoulders or the silent treatments.

The bell rang in his mind. The light bulb clicked on.

That meant Quistis was _mad_ at him.

That meant Quistis was mad at him like a _girl_ gets mad at a _guy_.

Every heated glance, every bit lip, every brush of her fingers, every warm blush in her cheeks, suddenly it all made sense to him. She did feel it too. _She did!_

Zell wasn’t sure whether to drop his head in his hands or whoop for joy. She muttered something at the poor clerk and threw a cautious glance over her shoulder, and when he met her eyes he saw a whole host of emotion bare to him but couldn’t for the life of him puzzle them all out. What had he done to bring them to this? He felt like crowing and crying. She felt the same way he did so what had be done to make her look like she was running away?

Whatever it was it must have been bad because she turned back to the counter in a sweep of blond bangs, snatched her book up, and strode away as if her own whip was snapping at her heels.

“Damn,” he mumbled, chuckling nervously and turning back to Library Girl. His knees felt weak somehow, his heart was racing. Anxiety and happiness burst wildly in his chest. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

He glanced at the dark haired girl, hovering near her table but hesitant to reclaim his seat. His muscles were tight and jumping, his conscious urging him to go-go-go and chase after Quistis. He felt guilty and pained when this girl was looking at him so earnestly but there was no more confusion for him. He knew which girl his heart wanted and his Ma hadn't raised no two timer. He wasn't going to lie to himself anymore.

“Nothin’. Well, somethin’,” he said uncertainly. “Look, me and Quisty...I'm not sure if its going to happen, but I got feelin's for her. I gotta try.”

Library Girl bit her lip sadly, clasping her hands in front of her with a nod. “I understand. You’d better go find her. You should make sure she’s okay.”

Zell’s sudden flash of white teeth and hopeful eyes made her heart skip and her stomach plummet, but she knew when she'd lost.

“Thanks!” the man in question sighed, waving and dashing off in the other woman’s direction.

The girl gathered up the books lying on the table, and moved to reshelve them, sighing sadly to herself.

\--

Though Quistis told herself it was mere coincidence, she was peering at a world history text, hidden behind bookshelves that just happened to leave them directly in her line of sight.

She was _spying_ on them but she’d whip Degenerator at anyone foolish enough to accuse her of it.

She swallowed hard, biting back her shame and repugnance. To think that she’d been reduced to such disgraceful, debasing actions left a sour taste in her mouth. She was spying on Zell Dincht and his little librarian like some love struck, jealous fool. Like a stalker, she thought uncharitably.

Still, she thought morosely as she peered around the corner for a better view, it was only fitting that romance had kicked Quistis Trepe squarely in the face again. Frowning, she realized they looked sweet together, all blonde hair versus brown, his excited fumbling versus her shy nods. They looked nauseatingly charming with their contrasts and she supposed it was true that opposites attracted. Library Girl giggled, a fresh pink blush glowing in her cheeks and Quistis found herself gritting her teeth. Zell rubbed his neck, his familiar nervous gesture and she wanted to Aqua Breath them both. Maybe a bit of a cold water would wash away the sickening sweetness permeating the room.

She swallowed hard, a sick, thick feeling of envy dropping in her stomach as he _smiled_ sweetly and the Library Girl reached out and touched Zell's arm. In sudden childish retaliation, Quistis tore the page she was pretending to flip through out of the book and, stunned by her own completely uncharacteristic immaturity, stared unblinkingly at her petty handiwork.

Her mouth fell open slightly, lips trembling.

Was this what falling for someone reduced her to? She was appalled by the weakness emotions had wrought within her. She felt juvenile and small, and not at all who she wanted to be. She was said to be attractive. She was smart and well-mannered and an excellent fighter. She had to have a following for a reason and she didn’t see people tripping over themselves to get the Library Girl’s stats. Except the one person that suddenly mattered.

Quistis shoved the book back into the shelf and took a deep breath, staring hard at the floor as she collected her dignity. Library Girl didn’t know him. She didn’t know his temper, his laughter, the way he fought or the reason he loved those stupid hot dogs. Library Girl didn’t know that he was adopted, didn’t know why he got his tattoo, didn’t know the make of his favorite gloves or how strong his Limit Breaks were. That had to count for _something_. That had to give her a leg up on the bizarre competition she suddenly found herself in.

But Library Girl would learn all that soon enough, wouldn’t she?

Mouth thinning with envy and hurt, Quistis snatched a random book from the shelves and swept out from between them. She strode past their table but kept her nose to the pages because she didn’t care. She couldn't care. She was done with this. She'd already lost and it was time to put her energies into something more productive.

She heard him stumbling from his chair when he caught sight of her, nearly losing his footing in the process.

“Quisty! Hey!” he called after her.

She kept walking, refusing to speed up but wishing she could just _run_ , and heard his heavy steps falter in confusion.

“Quisty?” he tried again.

She thumped the book onto the checkout desk, tapping her foot impatiently while the clerk glanced nervously from her to the blonde standing with open-mouthed confusion behind her.

“Hurry up,” she hissed coldly, and the clerk scanned her book hurriedly though she wondered why Instructor Trepe needed a text on remedial white magic.

Without glancing back she swept out of the library, telling herself over and over to keep walking, to march forward and be stronger than this, better than this like she always had.

Telling herself that she hadn’t hurt him.

And that even if she had, he had his little Library Girl to patch him right up.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are making this harder than it needs to be.


	11. Chapter 11

\--

Digging his hands into his pockets Zell swung around and made his way out of the noise and clamor of the busier halls and down the familiar corridors towards her class. He tried to line up his rapidly buzzing thoughts. Quistis was treating him like a girl treats a guy and it confused him, excited him, intimidated him. There was no way he could ask her if she was jealous because of that letter. He didn't want to kick that hornet’s nest even though he couldn't see any other reason for her to be so cold. There had been some crazy sparks, he was sure of it, but nothing concrete had happened and what if he was wrong? What if he was _right_? He had no idea how to navigate this.

He tried to work up the guts to knock on Quistis' door by loosening up his shoulders and shadow boxing for a hasty moments and when that didn't work he had to work he dropped to the floor and did a few one hand push up and some serious inner pep talking. Deep breaths, punch it out, show those butterflies in his stomach who was boss!

It was hard, there was so much within him right now and he didn't know how to sort it all out.

He knocked three times, the final time too hard. The metal dented underneath his knuckle and he winced, cheeks flaring red. He turned the knob instead. He stepped inside sheepishly and shut it behind him.

“Zell?” she asked calmly, and he felt a flash of uncertainty at the coolness of her face. “Why are you here?”

She settled back gracefully in her chair, picking up her pen and turning back to her work as if she hadn't a care in the world. He took a quick glance as he got closer and saw that not a single mark had been made on the paper. She made every appearance of working but seemed just as poorly off as him. She turned slightly in her chair as he stepped closer, deliberately cutting him off from seeing her work.

“Whatever it is I did, I’m sorry,” he exclaimed before she could kick him out. She turned to face him. “I don’t wanna fight anymore. I want the old Quisty back. ”

Her face smoothed out like marble and though he looked over the few things he’d said since interrupting her peace and quiet he couldn’t see anything wrong. She was looking at him, haughty and expressionless, and he realized that the smiling and warm Quistis he'd just found was gone from the moment and Instructor Trepe was before him now. He didn’t like the efficiently composed beauty of her face. He wanted the girl who let her hair spread over his lips on the docks back. He wanted the girl who nibbled peach slices in the shade and threw her head back in the boat and laughed. He wanted _Quistis_ back. He had to _fix_ this.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said dismissively, eyes back on her desk. “We're not fighting.”

“Well that ain’t like you,” he replied, struggling for amicability. “You’re sharp as a tack!”

“Is that what you think of me? Sharp?” she asked airily, looking back at her pages as if he bored her. She tapped her pen against the desk.

Zell leaned back, thinking hard but unable to puzzle out the double meaning in her question. She was making this harder for him and he couldn't figure out why.

“Yea,” he shrugged uncertainly. “You’re the smartest person I know!”

“Thank you,” she said coldly. “I have work to do now.”

"Quisty, Quisty, c’mon,” he frowned as he stood beside her, nervous and more than a little tired at the continued mistreatment. “You have to tell me what’s goin’ on here because I just ain’t _gettin_ ’ it!”

There was a long, long pause.

“Zell,” she sighed finally, glancing up at him for a moment as her shoulders sagged. He caught something stealing across the blue of her eyes, something young and hurt but it was gone before he could puzzle it out. Her face grew cold. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You have... please…”

_Please what,_ he thought. _Please go away some more? Please see that I realized I was wasting my time with you, Zell? Please drop this and go back to the way it was when you were lonely and I think I was even lonelier?_

“Quisty, we’re friends ain’t we? Can't you talk to me?” he asked hesitantly, and something inside of Quistis cracked. Her lip trembled, and she carefully put her pen down.

“That’s just it,” she whispered tiredly, and he stepped closer to hear her, bending forward into her space. His fingers itched to touch her. “ _That's_ what you aren't understanding, Zell. I don’t _want_ your friendship.”

Her unexpected words came out of nowhere and socked him in the gut. Out of all the words that could have come from her mouth at that moment, nothing could have wounded him more.

“Oh,” he said, staggering backwards with hurt.

Deflated by her rebuff, his shoulder’s drooped. He shoved his hands into his pockets and flushed red, pain warring with embarrassment. He had always assumed, what with being part of the orphanage gang and fighting during the Sorceress Wars together, that she’d liked him no matter how different they were. And hanging out with her, getting to know Quistis, not Instructor Trepe, had been the best thing to happen to him in a long, long time. Life had suddenly been wild with color and ripe for the taking. Had he just been pissing her off this whole time? His mind raced over memories of caught glances and pressed lips, twisting them all with new, injurious significance. He hadn't known. He hadn't even realized! He'd thought she... Hyne, he was an even bigger idiot than he'd realized.

He had been worried about misreading her feelings but her words had just uppercut his heart hard enough to see stars.

“Damn,” he said, blinking at her as if seeing her for the first, miserable time, “you should have said somethin’ sooner, Quisty.”

Realizing how badly he had misinterpreted her, Quistis shook her head and stood. He lurched backwards towards the door, shaking his head. At that moment he hated the tense line of her lips and the rigid press of her soft jaw as she fought her irritation.

All this time he’d been calling her a friend and she’d been calling him a fool. His fists clenched.

“Zell, that wasn’t at all what I was trying to say, please – “

The frustration and anger he’d been tamping down at her rudeness to him the past few days came to a boil. He thought she’d been his _friend_. He thought she had been _more_. He felt so _stupid_!

“Don’t bother Quistis,” he snapped loudly, his pride and temper flaring dramatically in a classic display of Dincht temper. He took two fast steps backwards and wrenched open her door, ripping it off the hinges and stalking through it. He didn't even bother feeling bad about it, just tossed it onto the floor in a huge clang of metal and glass. A cadet standing further down the hall squealed with surprise and fright. “I won’t fuckin’ hassle you anymore!”

Quistis hurried forward, frustrated and ashamed. She couldn’t get even the simplest emotional response out without disaster raining down. Where was the child prodigy now? Oh, that was right, busy screwing _everything_ in _everyone’s_ lives up.

“Zell! Please –” she called, reaching the hall just in time to see him racing full tilt around the corner.

Tipping her head backwards, she wished she could just scream, loud and long. However, she was Quistis Trepe, and even just rushing into a hallway was so out of character that some of the students were staring at her with wide eyes. No doubt the broken and discarded door was also attracting attention. If she started screaming they’d no doubt call the medical office, and she’d already done such an abysmal job at explaining herself to a friend, she didn’t want to imagine trying to explain herself to a doctor. Nodding uncomfortably to a startled group of wide eyed students she stepped over the mangled door and hurried off in pursuit of the unfortunately quick blonde.

“Just my luck to fall for Captain Overdramatic,” she sighed quietly to herself.

\--

She tried to think like him, heading first to the Cafeteria, then the Quad, then the Training Center and finally the library, all the while scanning the halls for his familiar spikes of blonde. She even asked some of the more blatantly staring students if they’d seen the guy with the tattoo on his face probably punching, kicking or yelling as he stormed by but only received shrugs in return.

The last bastion for a furious Zell Dincht had her tightening her spine and her resolve while she prepared to knock. A boy walking by nearly staggered into a wall when he caught sight of her in the blatantly male territory of the boys dormitory, the astonishment in his eyes causing her to double check and make sure she had the room number correct. Then she checked her memory, making sure she wasn’t confusing his room number with, Hyne forbid, a flirtatious, rumor-hazardous Irvine’s.

A loud smash followed by a shout, both muffled by the door in question made her certain. She knocked.

“ _Screw_ _off_!” was all she got in reply.

Squaring her shoulders, she took her instructor card key out of her pocket and slid it through the reader. She glanced hurriedly around her to make sure nobody was watching and when the light turned green she took a deep breath and let herself in, keeping the door slightly ajar behind her in case she needed to exit hastily.

“What the _fuck_?!” he bellowed.

Zell reeled around, gloved fists up, still in the middle of beating the shit out of his punching bag. And, Quistis thought as she quickly surveyed the room, apparently whatever else he could throw his fists at. Long ago Squall had paid to have safety measures put in place for their formidable abilities. While the majority of them channeled their powers through their weapons, Zell himself _was_ the weapon and needed specialized protections. Zell's dormitory was reinforced with both material and magic after one too many repair bills and even then it had taken intense magical amounts to create walls that the brawler could unleash some of his strength on without destroying. It seemed to be paying off now, Quistis thought wearily. In fact she was certain he must have performed a Meteor Barret on his hapless desk as it was now an unrecognizable mess of twisted metal and scattered papers.

His fists dropped and his bright blue eyes narrowed. He didn’t say anything though and Quistis searched wildly for something that would fix this ridiculous misunderstanding after she had screwed everything up so spectacularly. She took a deep breath.

She could fix this.

“You certainly have a flare for dramatics,” she blurted, knowing even as the words spilled from her mouth that that was _not_ _it_.

Zell tensed, shrugging his broad shoulders and drawing her attention to his body. Oh, she thought as a blush ignited in her cheeks. He’d discarded the coat of his SeeD uniform and his t-shirt was a tight white affair that left little to the imagination. He was also sweaty, breathing hard, and full of furious intensity as he glowered at her, all of which were doing tingling, melting and badly timed tricks to her insides.

“Quisty,” he snapped, crossing his arms angrily. “I ain’t got nothin’ to say to you right now.”

At least he’s still calling me Quisty, she sighed inwardly, dragging her thoughts away from the inappropriate. Which was very, _very_ difficult when his muscles were bulging like that.

“I have plenty to say to you,” she replied as calmly as she could, “and we could have been having this conversation back in my classroom if you’d have just let me explain myself there instead of making ridiculous, half baked assumptions based on a single sentence.”

He flushed but kept quiet, jaw ticking, chest still heaving. Quistis balked at his expectant silence; pulse jumping as she worked up courage.

“What I meant…”

She cleared her throat, irritation mounting.

“Why is this so difficult for me?” she muttered.

She imitated his defensive posture, crossing her arms tightly. She looked away, chin raised, and focused on a luridly colored poster on his wall apparently advocating a band she didn't recognize. It was far easier than looking at him and trying to fight the urge to finally _touch_. 

“What I was trying to say,” she began awkwardly as her cheeks heated, “is that lately I’ve been feeling – that is, I didn’t intend for this to happen, but – I seem to have developed…”

She closed her eyes, helpless and unsure, and took a steadying breath.

“I don’t know how to handle this,” she said plaintively, opening her eyes and turning her face to his.

Zell was looking at her still with annoyance and confusion.

“Quistis, I think I’m lost here,” he said slowly.

She bit her lip, deciding to borrow a page from his book and act on impulse. It was that or turn tail and run and she was _tired_ of being the coward here. She knew that if she left this room without giving voice to some of what she was feeling she was going to lose him for good. She didn't know what had happened in the Library but it couldn't have been much since he had come to see her so quickly. She had to let him know that there was _something_ here before he moved on entirely. That maybe, just maybe, she was a choice. 

She took a step towards him, then another step closer and still another, achingly slow until she was close enough to feel the heat of his body, to smell the salt of his skin. His arms fell to his sides. His chest rose and fell as his breathing evened out from his impromptu workout and she was so close that with each inhale his chest brushed against her breasts. He was a bit shorter than her and as she met his gaze she could see the pale blue sheen as it darkened with sudden awareness and reciprocation. Desire bloomed fast within like oil cast on an inferno and she knew he felt it too because he swallowed, his eyes lowering to her lips. The leather of his gloves creaked as his fists clenched and un-clenched nervously.

Slowly, giving him ample time to withdraw, Quistis reached out and gripped his wrists, sliding her fingers up the hot bare skin of his forearms and higher still to the tight muscles of the shoulders she had been coveting so badly. She leaned closer, helpless to stop herself. He was all hard male and musculature and desire and nerves swelled within her strong enough to weaken her knees. Her mouth was trembling softly, she could _feel_ it despite her inner attempts to project confidence, and she tilted her head just slightly, bringing her mouth so close to his own that she could feel his breath wash over her skin with each shaking exhale.

“Please tell me you get it now,” she whispered, her lips brushing maddeningly soft against his with every word.

“Uh huh,” he mumbled helplessly, leaning towards her just a fraction.

His head was spinning, his limbs felt unbearably heavy and warm, and she was so close to his body that her breasts were brushing against his chest, her hair was sliding over his shoulders, his cheeks, his neck, and Hyne, Quistis Trepe was going to _kiss_ him. She was everything he could possibly want and his heart was going to slam its way out of his chest as excitement and lust exploded inside of him. Cool, competent, utterly gorgeous, completely untouchable Quistis was making his head throb and his heart pound and his d–

And his door smacked open.

“Zell, why is your door op… en.” Rinoa stopped dead in her tracks, mouth falling open as Quistis swiftly stepped away from Zell, but not before she had seen what she had seen. Groaning in totally and utter frustration, Zell grabbed at his spiky hair and pulled, letting out a steady string of curses that were just as telling as Quistis’s flaring red cheeks.

“Quistis,” Rinoa coughed, stunned and utterly pleased, “You're here.”

“Yes, well,” the blonde replied shakily, smoothing her hands over her hair and trying her best to look composed when she wanted to throttle the brunette. She had almost had his mouth, she had almost been able to run her hands all over those shoulders. She had almost _kissed_ Zell Dincht and she had wanted it _so badly_ that her body was thrumming with thwarted desire. “What is it?”

“Squall wants to see you, Quistis,” Rinoa said, at a complete loss of what to do. Zell was still cursing behind her, erratic energy in physical form. He groaned, slapping his hands against the wall and bowing his head between his arms.

Throwing him one helpless glance Quistis strode from the room and headed towards the elevators, only allowing herself to hang her head back and screech softly in frustration when she was safely behind their doors and completely alone.

Turning back to the thwarted Zell and the disaster that was his room, Rinoa stared. After doing a furious series of punches that culminated in a broken lamp and a hole in the wall, Zell met Rinoa’s eyes and stopped moving.

“Don’t you freakin’ knock?!” he cried out. “That was almost… and _she_ … we could have… but you… and man, her lips are – “

“Zell!” Rinoa gasped, but began to giggle despite the thunder gathering in Zell’s face. “Wasn’t she furious with you? How was I supposed to know that she’d be in your dormitory seducing you a few hours later?”

Zell’s mouth sagged open, because she _had_ been seducing him. Quistis Trepe had been about to press that full pink mouth against his, and his hands were still twitching at the thought of those curves and soft skin and how sweet and perfect the whole moment had been before they’d been _interrupted_. What if she got cold feet now? What if she decided it was a bad idea? 

He was pretty sure he was either going to explode into a million agonized pieces or run away to the mountains and become some sort of snow monk if she changed her mind now. 

He growled, baring his teeth, and Rinoa jumped, skittering towards the door while trying to contain her laughter.

“And Zell? I was actually here because Squall wants to see you to,” she called back through the door, flitting her fingers at him as she dashed off to find Selphie and share the good news.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress!!


	12. Chapter 12

\--

The elevator moved slowly upwards and Quistis drew in a deep breath, trying to will away the ache of arousal melting through her. That had almost happened. It had been such a near thing! She wanted to throttle Rinoa and than go after Squall, she could climb the walls she felt so tense and high strung! Why had Rinoa _wrecked_ everything after being so obvious in her attempts to push them together? They could have _done_ things! They could have been all over one another! She could have explored every inch of that amazing body with her _mouth_ if Rinoa had just come a few hours later! Sexual tension was driving her mad and she took a few steadying breaths and told herself her knees were iron, not jelly.

The doors chimed, opening to the Commander's lobby and revealing a tall, slim male staring out the windows. The residual desire trickling through her limbs dried up rapidly. Straightening her shoulders she stepped into the room and met the blatantly rude stare of Seifer Almasy as he turned to face her all cunning greenish blue eyes and smirking mouth. The usual long grey coat hung around his calves and the well worn Hyperion leaned jauntily on his shoulder.

Just wonderful.

“Any particular reason _you’re_ here?” she asked archly, her chin lifting haughtily.

Seifer shrugged, patting his gun blade lazily against his shoulder. He glanced around, bored, pretending to wipe a bit of dust off his coat and her temper flared at his blatant disrespect. She did not deserve _this_ after _that_.

“Nothing in particular at all,” he drawled.

“One more try, Seifer,” she scoffed, snatching her whip from her waist and striking it against the floor. This was not a good time to tangle with her, and he only ever showed up for a bit of mischief or some of the more disturbing missions, and Squall hadn’t mentioned he was hiring out the illegitimate mercenary to Quistis, something he had always taken pains to do before.

He looked pleased by her immediate reaction.

“Man,” he grinned wolfishly. “You don't have a clue about why I’m here and already you’re getting ready to try and smack me down.”

“And I fondly recall,” she said archly, “the many, many times I have before.”

Seifer’s face darkened. He shrugged again. “Three against one back then. You and me? I like these odds better.”

“Think you can take me?” Quistis frowned, cracking her whip against the floor.

“I know I can,” he murmured, smirking and shifting himself into his stance, Hyperion held expertly in his hand.

“W-wait!” the receptionist tried to interfere, and was silenced by a vicious glare thrown by Seifer. She sank low into her seat.

They circled one another, Quistis’ nerves already wearing her down. She was thwarted and aroused and so frightened by all that was happening in her heart. She should not be taking on Seifer alone. She didn’t sense that he intended any real harm but could she truly trust her instincts? She’d underestimated him before.

He slashed forward, keeping close so she had less room to attack and she maneuvered away from the strike. Experimentally, she flicked her whip towards him weakly, and he stopped the motion with his blade but did not retaliate as quickly as he could have.

He was either toying with her or truly wished her no harm.

“Tell me why you’re here,” she said coolly, stepping gracefully away from a downward slash of the gun blade.

“I’m having much more fun with this, Instructor,” he smirked.

Lips thinning in irritation, Quistis’ whip twirled, snapped forwards and bit into Seifer’s arm through the threadbare coat, leaving a tear. He winced, looking insulted, and retaliated rapidly with an aggravated sigh. She felt the sting of open skin on her bare upper arm and risked a glance down. Sure enough, blood flowed from a relatively shallow gash.

“Happy now? Eye for an eye and all that,” Seifer said and lowered his weapon. “Man, you got a bit of a temper on you, Trepe.”

“As do you,” she sighed.

“Yea, but mine was always there. What got your panties all twisted up?”

Before she could respond the elevator doors opened and Squall stepped through, halting momentarily when he caught sight of them and their drawn weapons.

“You couldn’t be civil for ten minutes, Seifer?” he snorted, irritated.

The blonde rolled his eyes, settling his gun blade once again into the relaxed tap against his shoulder. “You’re making assumptions here, Squall, and after I thought we had gotten past all that.”

Seifer was well aware that Squall wouldn’t trust him with the plant in his office when it came down to it and he couldn’t care less. SeeD missions paid well and he was allowed to do what he did best; kick ass.

“Quistis,” Squall sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly, “stand down.”

She did so quietly, ignoring the taunting leer on Seifer’s face.

Squall cleared his throat, “I should have warned you, Quistis, but you’ve been preoccupied lately.”

“You should have,” she agreed. It was always nice to have a heads up when old nemeses were in the building, “and no more preoccupied than usual.”

Squall said nothing though his silence spoke volumes, and Quistis blithely ignored it. She wasn’t about to air her personal laundry in front of Squall or Seifer.

Squall stood uncomfortably between the aggravated two. Seifer slouched against the wall, fingering the new hole in his sleeve.

“Some welcoming committee. You guys sure know how to treat an old pal,” he sneered.

Squall shrugged silently and Quistis crossed her arms. The Commander nodded to his traumatized secretary and opened his office door, ushering them both through. Seifer bowed exaggeratedly and let her go first. Squall moved behind his desk and Quistis heard the ding of the elevator outside once again.

“I’m not sure when –” Squall began, only to be interrupted.

“Hey!” a new voice burst out from the lobby, and Quistis bit her lip, suddenly anxious and oddly elated as the source of all her excitement shoved open the office door, “Squally, what’d you need – fuck!”

Zell ceased bouncing eagerly on his heels immediately upon spotting Seifer, the gauge of his temper surging from nonexistent to blind rage in the blink of an eye. He drew himself up, jaw tightening as he narrowed his eyes on the childhood bully he had never quite been able to forgive.

When Quistis stepped out behind the mercenary, arm bleeding from an obvious gun blade slice, he lost it completely.

“You goddamn sonofabitch!” he roared, snapping forward in two huge steps and decking Seifer in the jaw. Luckily he wasn’t wearing his Ehrgeiz and Seifer had no doubt junctioned well knowing he was entering a Garden where few counted him as a friend. Squall had stepped out from behind his desk as soon as the boxer had entered the room, catching Zell after the first hard blow that sent the other man crashing backwards against the wall, metal groaning, glass cracking. A painting fell from the wall and smashed onto the floor. Quistis gasped, trying to lend Squall a hand and assure the brawler she was fine.

“What the fuck got into you, Chicken-wuss?” Seifer groaned, woozily climbing to his feet. He cast Cura on himself and the nausea and stars receded. He cast again until he could see clearly though his jaw was killing him, belatedly taking in Squall and Quistis trying to hold Zell back once to pain abated.

“Zell, Zell, listen,” Quistis murmured, breathing the words quietly into his ear as he kept his furious gaze on Seifer, chest heaving. “Squall called him here. We sparred a bit but nothing serious and _I_ instigated it. It’s only a little scratch.”

Dincht seemed to calm beneath their hands, nodding shakily as her soothing words washed over him. “Okay Quisty,” he breathed, “okay.”

Seifer tested his jaw, thanking himself for being so great at healing magic. Damn cry-baby Zell still packed a mean punch. He spat out a huge mouthful of blood and a tooth onto the carpet, much to Quistis’ disgust.

“Hyne, Chicken-wuss,” he snorted, “learn to play nice.”

“I don’t play nice with creeps like you,” he snapped distractedly, but Seifer realized he was only half paying attention to him.

Offended by not being the total focus of a basket case like Dincht after routine dictated otherwise he followed Zell’s eyes to the cut on Quistis’ arm. Technically, he thought scornfully, it was _her_ fault for not wearing her gloves not that he blamed her in the awful heat. His coat was admittedly a bit much in this weather but when you looked as good as he did you had to make sacrifices.

Seifer watched as Quistis absently passed a hand over the gash, the magic flowing from her palms and mending the skin without her even paying much attention. Chicken-wuss came back to himself, glancing venomously at Seifer for a short, hazardous moment where he was certain the little blonde lunatic was going to come after him again.

So Dincht was a Trepie. He filed that little tidbit away.

He looked at Quistis, expecting to see the usual cool and impassive look on her face, but blinked again when he took in the unexpectedly heated look she shot the brawler.

_Ugh_ , he thought in disgust, _Trepe and Chicken-wuss got something going on?_

He looked between the two of them, wanting to laugh outright but tormented by the thought of their offspring. They’d have little hyperactive know-it-all brats, all blonde and blue eyed with way too many teeth in their loud mouths and a penchant for playing boss.

“Gross,” he muttered out loud, shouldering past Zell and slumping comfortably in one of the chairs.

Gracefully Quistis followed, settling herself strategically between the two. Taking the seat on the other side of the woman, Zell hunched forward looking mutinous.

“I called you here for a real reason, not beating on one another like children,” Squall snorted, sweeping his long hair from his face. He took out a file from his desk drawer and caught Quistis’s eyes as he did so.

“The Duchy of Dollet has a mission for us,” he sighed. “and are paying well. You all know that since radio communication has been fully active for a few years now we’ve had a lot of protesters, a lot of terrorist attacks on both the old and new towers from people who think we were better off without them. Well, Dollet is updating their technology and are receiving threats. I need you two to go to Dollet and track down the threat, as well as protect the tower. Details are in the folder.”

“Two?” Quistis asked curiously, glancing at Seifer.

“Two. I’m sending Zell and Seifer to Dollet for this mission, Seifer as Team Lead, Zell as Second. Quistis, I want you as Head Consult and public relations. You put on a _much_ better face then they do. I'll organize a substitute for your classes.”

Zell was having a heck of a time biting his lip. Second to Almasy?! That was downright cruel! At least they both had to report to Quistis, and he didn’t really mind taking orders from her.

“Do you accept this mission?” he asked, looking at them all pointedly.

“I usually bring in Fujin and Raijin as my team,” Seifer huffed. “Why are you tossing Dinct at me like a dirty shirt? He ain’t going to be any good on a mission that needs tact.”

“I guess that’s your answer,” Squall said bored, before Zell, who shot out of his chair, could get a word in. Zell hovered there, wanting to defend himself but unsure how or who against.

Seifer stood too, making sure to keep Quistis between him and the brawler as he directed his words to their Commander.

“It ain’t so much freelancing as babysitting if you shackle me to your SeeD’s, Leonheart. These two are just going to drag me down, but if you insist…”

Squall ignored him, handing the mission brief to Quistis who wisely kept her mouth shut. Beside her, Zell was dancing on the tip of his toes, furious, but desperately trying to take a cue from Quisty. She wasn’t up and screaming or trying to punch Seifer in the face again, so that was probably not what he should be doing either. But dammit! What was _with_ this day? Should he be furious? Cheering?

“Read it, formulate a plan, and implement it, Quistis please remain behind. I need to speak to you,” Squall commanded.

Zell, glancing back from Squall, caught sight of Quistis’s blushing face as she very deliberately did not look at him. Oh man, Quistis. There was a problem he wouldn’t mind wrapping his hands around. His mind slid back to his room, eyes glazing over, as he remembered the heat in her eyes and the way her mouth had teased just against his. She was going to drive him insane. His fingers twitched, fighting the urge to grab hold of her now and just lay one on her. Let Seifer stick that in his pipe and smoke it!

Seifer was snickering as he left the room and Zell hesitated, glancing between the serenely sitting, red faced blonde and his soon to be annoyed commander.

“Later you two,” he coughed, and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a wince.

Seifer stood by the elevator, pointedly staring at the doors, and edgily Zell came to stand beside him. He shook out his arms, shrugged his shoulders, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet.

“Can’t you stay still for three seconds, Dincht?” Seifer asked, disgusted at the shorter man’s constant motion. It was hard to look suave and uncaring when there was a banty little rooster bobbing around you.

“I got a lot on my mind, Almasy. Shut your yap or I’ll sock you again,” Zell grumbled, half-heartedly shadow boxing until the doors opened.

There was an awkward moment where they both hesitated to get into the elevator but eventually Seifer snorted and stepped through, slapping the button for the ground floor.

“You hot for teacher, Chicken-Wuss? I admit I didn’t see that one coming, but...” he snorted loudly, leaning Hyperion against the elevator wall than joining it. “That woman is hot as Hyne. I would have tapped it myself if I could have stopped her from opening her bossy little mouth so much.”

Zell’s mouth fell open as he puzzled out what Seifer was saying between the slang. “You want a friggin’ Final Heaven to the face, bastard?!” he finally managed to shout, pointing an angry finger at the other man. “Shut your goddamn mouth. You ain’t got any right to talk about her like that!”

“So you haven’t sealed the deal then,” Seifer snickered, blue-green eyes bright with laughter. “Better get on it before she notices what a runty little dork you are and moves on to something bigger. And badder.”

He brushed the sleeve of his coat pointedly, stretching to his full height with a smug smirk.

"Look Dincht, just try to keep it in your pants during this mission. I've got a reputation to maintain and I don't need my success rate lowered because a dork like you is reaching so far out of its league its laughable. Focus on the job, not the blonde." 

“Shut your mouth!” Zell squawked as the doors swept open but he was swiftly losing heart. He didn’t even _know_ what was going on with Quistis, let alone with himself. Did he want to seal the deal? Looking at her, yea, of course he did, and she had his heart all tangled up inside of himself like that time he’d gotten gum in his hair and figured he could get it out using more gum… only that had just gotten tangled up so bad he’d had to cut the whole mess out and had a bald spot for weeks. He didn’t want whatever this mess was to rough him up so bad he had another missing piece… and he was aware of himself enough to know that with this girl in particular, he could end up decimated.

Seifer shrugged, pushed himself off the wall and swung his gun blade back up his shoulder. “You’re terrible at this, aren’t you? Go get your dating advice from Kinneas. That guy can get into a chicks pants faster than you lose your temper over absolutely nothing.”

They stepped off the elevator, SeeD's scattering left and right when they saw who had emerged from the doors. 

"It ain't like that," Zell snapped. 

"Shame, that," Seifer whistled low. "Better off for her though. I can't imagine you manhandling a chick with those block fists of yours." 

He offered a mocking wave as he sauntered towards the front entrance to Balamb Garden. Screw this place. He was sick of it already.

"Fuck you!" he called after the other man, weakly even to his own ears. His throat felt tight, his confidence was lower than the heels of his shoes, decimated as always by the other man who had a hook within him that would pull savagely for a lifetime. 

Zell stood there and watched him leave, helpless as always in the face of his biggest bully and the smirking cruelty so at odds with his own compassion, fists swinging uselessly at his sides.

\--

“What did you need, Commander?” Quistis asked after she heard the elevator chime safely away from the other room.

“This is his shot,” Squall said with no aplomb. “This is the chance he wanted and you asked for.”

It was an important mission, well paying, politically driven and impactful. They needed both tact and brute force to pull it off.

“And Seifer?” she asked.

“He gets to Zell like nobody else. Trial by fire. I can’t think of a better person to make him learn to cool his temper around.”

“That’s both devious and cruel, Squall,” Quistis sighed, pinching the corner of the folder in her hand. She wanted to tell him that he’d mucked everything up with his ill timed summons but assumed that would not go over well at this point. Squall's face was remote, a sure indication of his anxiety.

Quistis had far more faith in Zell's abilities than Squall did, and she was going to show him just how capable the younger man could be. 

“Do you have anything else to say?” he asked her, wondering why she wasn’t already out the door.

“I’m obviously not… unbiased… right now, Squall. You see that,” she admitted. 

He nodded, eyeing her dispassionately. “You’ve never let your personal life interfere with your job ethic.”

“I’ve never _had_ a personal life,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“See you at dinner, Quistis,” Squall said, shuffling his papers pointedly.

Standing, she swept around to the door, brief tucked safely beneath her arm.

“Thank you, Commander, for allowing this,” she said softly.

He said nothing in reply, but he didn’t have to. Quistis left.

\--

Zell hadn't sought her out again that day.

And as Quistis lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to contain the whirling maelstrom of confusion and frustration and hurt within her, she could not figure out why. He clearly wanted her too. He had reacted to her touch and her thwarted attempt to kiss him like a man who wanted to be kissed, so why hadn't he come after her? For that matter, why hadn't she gone after him?

She rolled onto her side, tucking her fist glumly beneath her chin. Because she was afraid. Scared of the changes being wrought between them. Terrified of committing herself to something irrevocable. She was frightened. Too frightened to take that last step after the impulsive lust of that afternoon. 

And his absence could only mean that he was too.

\--


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy trigger warning for violence and some gore.
> 
> This was actually the very first thing I ever wrote for this story, and what created this whole soapy sweet mess back in uh... 2008 actually. Been sitting on it awhile.
> 
> A reviewer pointed out something about the battle mechanics and status ailments ending after a battle, and its a fair point but I hope it doesn't agonize the Final Fantasy nerd in all of us too badly. I'll be honest, its been years since I played FF8 or 9 or 10 and like... the mechanics are hazy at best, lol. I did the best I could from memory but its a real challenge to try to make game mechanics somewhat realistic. I like to think that all these spells and status ailments and such, if they were REAL in the world, wouldn't just clear off because a fight ended, right? The same way Zell and Quistis probably wouldn't strike the same pose every time they finished a fight and victory music wouldn't randomly ring out from nowhere. Taking something with the word 'Fantasy' right in the title and trying to make it human and real and normal is hard, not going to lie, lol. Hope you can get past it!
> 
> Goddamnit Gersh.

\--

Item Refinery was an advanced class only, with only the more capably Junctioned students accepted into the curriculum. It involved strict concentration, precise control and excellent magical ability, all of which Quistis had in spades. Usually.

Despite her strict personal guidelines she recognized that she was rattled, distracted, and perhaps the Show Must Go On mentality she was currently holding rigid control over might not be the best choice she had ever made. Life wasn't going to stop just because her heart was hurting though, just because she was pent up and frustrated and abysmally insecure. She was an instructor, and these children needed her to _instruct_. It was that simple.

It was her standard routine to take her students in groups of ten or so, depending on the GF’s they could junction with, out to one of the empty courtyards so that any magic that was loosed could dissipate safely away from both student and structure. With Squall as Commander of Balamb Garden and the entirety of their group residing there, the GF’s had become more accessible to the cadets which in turn broadened the spectrum of magic they could teach.

Today she had a group of eight students, each Junctioned with Diablos and given five readily accessible Magic Stones in order to refine as many Haste’s as they could from them. The status-boosting spell was harmless if it happened to hit one of them and useful in the Training Center if they chose to later employ it.

Refining was a skill that grew easier with practice and a passing grade in her class meant distilling ten or more of the spells from each of the stones. Sorting them out into pairs was easy, and after her careful demonstration each set was nervously pulling the bright yellow spells from the stones. She watched, pleased with their success, chuckling whenever a Haste escaped a students careful tugging and darted away like a drop of lightening. This was good. This kept her mind from straying to dangerous territory.

“What you doin’ out here, Quisty? Sunbathin’?” his voice suddenly exploded from behind her and she stiffened.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she turned around. She felt caught out somehow, frozen in place, finding it impossibly difficult to pretend that she was not dragged immediately back to the last time they had been alone together and the memory of his body beneath her hands, his mouth so close to capture.

Zell stood behind her, T-Board in hand, smiling shyly at her when she looked away from another flash of yellow magic. Her pulse jumped and she fought away the ridiculous giddy sick of excitement that was bringing a shaky smile to her own face. She was teaching. She couldn’t afford to have her thoughts scattered by the fist fighter, no matter how blue his eyes looked just then or how the last time they’d been alone his lips had been so close to hers that just the memory of it had her _burning_ now. He hadn't come to find her after speaking with Squall. She was embarrassed to admit that she had waited. He didn't seem any different or bothered in the least by what had very nearly transpired. It very much stung, she could admit.

“Zell,” she managed evenly. “I’m teaching a Practical. Item refinery, actually.”

“Really?” he asked, peering around her at her students. A few of them offered him smiles and he waved enthusiastically.

“Good job guys!” he whooped loudly, and even some of the more deeply concentrated students glanced up, smiling.

Before she could analyze her actions overly, Quistis took Zell by the arm – those _muscles_ – and steered him aside.

“Please keep it down, Zell. They’ve got to concentrate,” she whispered.

“Oh, right,” he stage whispered, wincing. He lifted his gaze to hers for a moment than it fluttered away. “I thought maybe, you might have a bit of time to talk about- about that mission we got. And maybe other stuff,” he coughed into his fist, glancing away. High spots of color rushed into his cheeks.

Quistis wanted nothing less. Ever. In fact she might have to change careers, maybe move to Cactuar Island. She could get used to sand and blistering heat. It might even clear her head.

“That sounds... sensible,” she finished, groaning internally.

She had all the sex appeal and allure of a dusty library book.

He smiled sheepishly, peering around her again when a burst of gold skittered across the ground and into some of the pretty flower bushes.

“I don’t really get all this stuff,” he shrugged guiltily. “I’m sort of a bad student, ain’t I?”

“You’re talents just run in a different direction,” she offered as her eyes followed the motion of his shoulders. Her mind brought up the memory of how hard they had felt under her hands, and inwardly she groaned.

Zell met her eyes, his own as bright and sweet as the sky above them, and her mouth went dry as painful embarrassment pinned her in place. She was sitting here lusting after him like a drooling wolf with a sleeping lamb.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled abruptly. “I need to get –“

“Whoa! Hey!” Zell cried, eyes widening as he grabbed her arms and moved her aside defensively in his usual effortlessly gentlemen way. “What’s that guy up to?”

That guy was Levus Gersh, and Quistis’s eyes widened in alarm when she saw him clutching his arm as if he was in pain, a sudden flash of crimson spells scattering wildly across the courtyard as he lost control of them.

_Berserk._

Gersh must have accidentally channeled Diablos’s Strength instead of the appropriate Time, yanking the much more difficult to control spell from the stone and losing them all in the process. Such an error had never occurred in her class before but she had known it was a slight possibility. She should have had a plan in place. She should have been _better_ , that's what she was _here_ for! This was what happened when she lost focus. Anger and self recrimination tore through her belly but she pushed it aside to process later.

“Was anybody hit?” she shouted, skirting around Zell and immediately taking control. She quickly flipped her fingers over the pouch at her waist looking for an Esuna, cursing herself when she realized she had none. She hadn't restocked after the last squad of hopefuls she had led to collect Ifrit before Squall had turned her world over with her forced vacation. And then _everything else_ had happened. Foolish! Distracted! Her hubris could cost her here. She was supposed to be prepared for _any_ and _every_ eventuality.

Quistis quickly scanned the area for any renegade magic still remaining. A sudden cry had her looking around, finding one of the younger girl’s pointing behind her with absolute fear in her eyes. She stilled, and a part of her wilted in defeat within because life was so good at showing her how unfair it could be.

 _It would be him_ , she thought bitterly.

Quistis pivoted on her heels, face paling when she saw the expression of animalistic rage on Zell’s normally cheerful face, saw the tightly clenched fists, saw the aura so thick with hatred and fury that he seemed to actually glow a deep and hungry crimson.

 _I have no Esunas on me_ , _no Remedies,_ she thought wildly. _There’s never been a_ need _before, teaching these children the simple basics they needed. It was easy. It was innocent. How could I be so careless? I should be prepared for anything. Some teacher I am, some role model._

Distracted, she cursed herself. Idiot.

But now was no time for self flagellation.

Swallowing, she slowly withdrew her whip, keeping her movements slow and relaxed. Fighting an angry Zell would be dangerous. Fighting a Berserked Zell might just be suicide. The increase of speed, strength, and the unleashed wrath of a man with his formidable power daunted even her. She thought quickly of strategy, melting seamlessly into the cold and composed will that made her such a formidable opponent as well. Strength straightened her spine. She was no shrinking violet. She was Quistis Trepe. Slowly she withdrew the Haste spell she had acquired during her demonstration and cast the magic on herself, feeling the immediate surge of adrenaline and speed.

“When I strike,” she said quietly to the frightened students behind her, “you move _slowly_ and _carefully_ away. Seal the exits. Raise an alarm. Get the Commander as _fast_ as you can.”

But in his fear one of the terrified boys stumbled as soon as he began to move, making himself the first unfortunate target. Zell lunged forward past Quistis, who drew back her whip and let it fly even as his fists drew back. The chain circled uncleanly around his neck and his pulled fist and with a curse she tightened back and used all the force of her weight swiftly junctioned with Strength to haul on the brawler. He fell backwards, snarling, and yanked the coils of her whip away from himself.

“ _Go!_ ” she ordered the students as Zell recovered his footing and rounded on her, the bigger threat.

Quistis centered herself, concentrated on her magic and slid her junctions around until her primary focus was speed. She moved like lightening, snapping her whip down hard and fast against his chest and sending him towards her in an immediate flurry of fists and howling rage. She trusted the students to get help but how long could she last one on one against him when she couldn’t win a sparring match and he’d been going _easy_ on her?

Mentally she hardened herself. _She_ had been going easy on _him_ as well. She was the _premiere_ blue magic caster on any continent, an incredibly competent fighter, a practiced strategist, the most skilled chain whip mistress in their _entire_ _world_ and there was _nothing_ she could not do.

And right now, she had to stop Zell Dincht from destroying the home he loved and the people he shared it with because nothing could be worse than the devastation she imagined in his eyes.

She used any and all available weaknesses of Berserk against him, disorienting him with sharp cracks of her chain, trying to keep him from locating her for as long as she could when he went for the sounds and using the courtyard itself against him by keeping anything and everything possible between them. The first punch he landed was against her ribs and she grit her teeth to keep from crying out loud when it knocked the wind from her lungs and she heard the sickening crunch of broken bone.

 _I am strong. I am stronger_ , she repeated to herself, realigning her junctions for strength again and shoving her arms against his chest as hard as she could. Distance was imperative. She began slashing her whip down over and over as she scrambled backwards, gasping with pain.

He came at her again and again, bruising and breaking with each dire strike but as her magic twisted up within her in defense her pain lessened. Finally she unleashed Mighty Guard upon herself, feeling the immediate encasement of protective magic around her and shaking off the remaining pain. She cast Curaga once, knowing she had to plan her casting carefully lest she run out of energy. Magic was exhaustive, a limited pull on the soul. That was why not everyone could do the things they could. She was still injured but until he did enough damage for her to call up White Wind, her own personal rallying point, she could do nothing but keep his attention on herself.

Her moment of healing cost her.

He charged her, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and sending her slamming backwards into a pillar before he let go and pulled his arm back. Focusing as hard as she could, she junctioned against his brute force, forcing whatever of her own substantial magic she could up to negate the damage. With a wince of dread she recognized the whirling energy surround him. Straight punch to the face, a second, and than an uppercut that had her seeing stars. Punch Rush. He spun and slammed her hard in the side of the head with his right leg, knocking her over, than came at her again in another rush of fists that she managed to dodge most of. The concrete bore the brunt, craters erupting wherever he landed a hit. He tried to heel drop her in the head as she rolled away, managing to land it on her lower back as she stood. She gagged as pain blossomed hot and black within her, struggling within herself for another Curaga even as she moved herself away from him.

“Zell, Zell, Zell,” she heard herself chanting between clenched teeth, feeling the white magic swim through her blood and reknit broken bones, torn muscles. Strike after strike she slashed him with her whip, watching it bite and slice into his skin while he didn't react. She spun her whip as she went before letting it fly hard. It cracked against his face and blood flew from his torn cheek like red rain. Quistis had little time to regret though as he reached a new level of ferocity from all the damage she had dealt him, his fists glowing in a lethal blast of light that could only mean another Limit Break.

Burning Rave, she cursed silently, sucking in a breath as he dragged an enormous amount of energy from within himself, surrounding himself with a circle of raw power that blew around him like fire. He drew it within himself, swallowing it like it were air until he drew back that powerful fist of his and slammed it into the courtyard ground. The effects were cataclysmic, splitting the concrete apart like a fault-line yawning open and spewing forth the energy he’d just absorbed. It knocked her backwards, a shock wave of pain and power. Her vision hazed over with pained black but even as she felt Mighty Guard failing her and she began to cough up bright streaks of red blood, White Wind was spiraling up and healing her wounds like a gasp of fresh, clean air. She felt bones knitting back together, muscles tensing with renewed energy and her fatigue fading away. It brought her back to near top condition but still it was not a full recovery and her body ached more with each landed fist.

 _I've been through worse. We all have._ _I’m not going to die here_ , she thought resolutely. _I’m not going to let you kill me, Zell Dincht._

 _Not until I’ve kissed you, at least_ , she sighed wryly inside.

He threw out his foot, hooking it around her knee and as she threw her arm up in defense, punching her so hard in the face that she fell backward, skidding with the force. Her rather lovely nose was definitely broken. She wondered for a moment if she was going to be able to stand again. Several of her ribs felt like pieces of broken pottery beneath her bruised skin and blood dribbled from her mouth. Internal bleeding was obvious, and gritting her teeth against the fear as he came at her again, she reached for her weapon once more.

Clutching at the links of her whip until she felt the sharp tip between her fingers, she waited until he was on top of her before she shoved it as hard as she could into the tendon at the back of his ankle, grimacing at the visceral feel of it. She blessed the fact that he could currently feel no pain. He slipped to one knee with a grunt from the sudden inability to use the limb and Quistis maneuvered away from the blonde as adroitly as she could, wondering how much longer she could keep this up. She cast Curaga again and her breathing eased. Help had to come soon or one of them was going to end up _dead_ and odds were not in her favor.

She bit her lip as he came at her and she limped away, dragging his useless leg behind him like some kind of lame beast. It hurt to see him there but not there, to see the intense rage in his pale blue eyes as rivulets of blood dripped down his face and leg, empty within. Over and over he threw kicks and fists her way and over and over she drove him back and led him in a macabre dance around the courtyard.

But she was tiring fast and she was frightened for them both, and it had only been about ten minutes.

“Come on Zell,” she panted, blood spraying over her lips, as he lifted his fists back up into fighter stance. “I just found you. I'm not going to lose you to a stray spell and a couple bruises.”

She was reaching within herself with no small amount of strain for another White Wind when a flash of blue magic washed over Zell and he fell forward, crying out and clutching at his sliced Achilles tendon.

Squall stood behind them looking stunned, lowering his raised hand while Selphie peeked around his shoulder with her green eyes wide and shouted for Irvine to _hurry_. Quistis fell to her knees, stunned and frightened, unaware of the horrifying picture she made, covered in blood and sweat, crimson streaming from her nose and lips down the front of her tattered uniform, face bruised, glasses missing, hair askew and matted with dirt and blood. She stared at Zell as he writhed before her against the stones, groaning in pain as he clutched his leg and swore profusely.

 _There you are_ , she thought softly, dazed and near unconscious as the adrenaline wore off, the unused magic tickling tentatively at the edges of her consciousness. Blearily she focused on it. Without thinking, she spread her arms out and thrust the full force of White Wind upon the yelling, bleeding Zell before she succumbed to the fatigue of too much magical draw and a severe amount of physical damage. Blackness filled her vision until she knew no more.


	14. Chapter 14

\--

What happened?

One minute he’d been standing in the sun with Quisty working up the courage to bring up _stuff_ and the next minute his leg had exploded with pain and he’d been on the ground in agony! He felt magical healing sweep over him, mending his leg as well as all his other suddenly aching muscles and slowly became aware of Squall kneeling beside him with a serious frown. The look in the other man's blue eyes froze him in place. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, hating the whine in his own voice, and the Commander glanced away.

“Squally?” Zell asked, sitting upwards carefully.

His hands were shaking. Breath was heaving from his chest. There was blood all over his bare fists. Stomach trembling with anxiety he looked around the courtyard, seeing the huge cracks and fissures in the concrete, seeing one of the pillars shattered in half, rubble spread around it, seeing the craters shattering the ground in damning radial, fist sized splits. 

And finally seeing Rinoa’s blue back and Selphie’s brown bob as they knelt on the ground beside a body he _knew_.

Quistis lay on the ground as Rinoa cast healing magic above her but Zell could still see what an awful state she was in. Torn up, blood all over her face, filthy matted blonde hair. Panic scorched rapidly through him and he scrambled to his knees, knowing without even being aware of it that if he tried to stand at that exact moment his legs would have failed him. His vision blackened at the edges with fear and panic. He sucked in a huge breath of air, and Squall said his name firmly enough to drag his spiraling mind from the mire momentarily. He turned his stricken blue eyes to his commander. 

“She's alive. There was a spell accident. You were Berserked,” Squall said quietly, keeping a firm and comforting hand on the brawler's arm. “Quistis had to keep you away from the cadets. She used herself as a decoy.”

His knuckles were burning, the old familiar red of raw skin, of punches thrown without gloves. Zell’s eyes slowly widened as he listened, distantly realizing that the shaking in his hands was from the sudden loss of adrenaline. He stared at his fingers, aghast, then back to her. He had nearly beaten Quistis to death with those very same hands. Thank Hyne he hadn't had the gloves on.

“No, no, Quisty,” he moaned, pushing past Squall as best he could, half limping on his still tender leg, half crawling across the concrete to where she lay. Selphie gave way to him and he knelt beside her, hands hovering awkwardly over Quistis' prone form.

“She’ll be fine Zell. I used my strongest white magic. I healed her with everything I had. I put her under with Sleep and she’s pretty drained but she’ll be fine. She’s as strong as we _can_ be,” Rinoa reassured him gently, hesitating. “White magic doesn't clean up blood. We should get her to the infirmary so she can sleep it off.”

Rinoa was the most formidable white mage in their world and she looked drained. The realization made him sick to his stomach with miserable anxiety. _What had he done to Quistis?_

“Lemme do it,” he croaked. “Please.”

Squall, Rinoa, Irvine and Selphie stood back as he gathered the bloodstained blonde into his arms, his heavy fists timid and gentle, his head bowed with shame.

"Zell, you didn't know what you were doing," Squall said quietly. "You can't blame yourself. You have to see that."

"It's pretty hard to see much aside from what I'm seein' right in in front of me," Zell whispered hoarsely, eyes fixed on Quistis.

She was light though long, her legs dangling. He very carefully kept her head settled on his shoulder so it didn't loll around. He watched her chest rising and falling rhythmically, sickened inside. Sure, he didn't have a damn clue what he'd been up to, but that didn't make the aftermath easier to take. The strength and agility he loved so much had sure come to smack him back in the face, and judging from the drying blood on Quistis' pale cheeks, her pert nose, and soaking her clothes, he'd smacked her too. And he’d hit her _hard_.

"Dammit..." he choked a bit on the word, eyes tearing, and he clumsily wiped his face into his shoulder as best he could. Shame swallowed him whole.

Squall and Rinoa stepped aside as he moved past them, following behind a few steps, allowing Zell to bear his burden unhindered.

\--

  
  


_Nobody had gotten hurt._

That was the only thought running through Quistis' relieved mind when she awoke. She considered the obvious exception of herself but dismissed it just as quickly. It wasn't that she didn't accept what had happened to her, it was that she was trained for it, skilled and powerful, a member of the team that had saved the entire world. On a bad day she could take on whatever this world threw at her. On a good day whatever her teammates did. And nobody, not a single student, had been hurt by an unhinged, enraged Zell Dincht. In the end her own health, her own chastisement, Zell's guilt, Squall's anger, none of it mattered.

They would simply need to get over it because that's what adults _did_ and a month ago she would have brushed it all off, held her head high and strode into the next day and let Zell deal with his end of things however he saw fit. But a month, it seemed, had changed a great many things. Now she knew what his tattoo meant. Now she knew how he shook out his shoulders when he got excited. Now she knew how blue his eyes were when he laughed and how he grinned like a shark whenever he thought he had the upper hand. She almost knew what he tasted like against her mouth.

And she knew that with his soft, pliant, compassionate heart, he would not just shrug this off.

And so that was why she had insisted on being discharged from the medical ward immediately and had gone straight to her room and packed a bag. And so that was why she, geared in her normal battle gear leather and all, was sliding a key into an ignition switch of a sleek black and red car and slipping out of the parking lot like a thief in the night with only a quick message to Squall letting him know that she had begun their mission. She did not wait for assent, for approval, knowing that every single one of them would try to stop her. 

She knew what she was doing, and they would need to trust her. 

\--

Quistis went to Ma Dincht's first, knocking on the door and straightening her spine, smoothing down her hair, adjusting her glasses. She was uncertain and when the door opened and Zell's mother beamed out at her with an obscenely pleased smile, Quistis suddenly did not know what to say. 

All her carefully rehearsed explanations drifted away in the face of the smiling woman who had raised the man she was currently chasing down. 

"Miss Trepe! I heard what happened, such a terrible thing! You're here for Zell?" Ma Dincht asked.

"Yes," she said simply, and his mother stepped aside to usher her in.

"Let me fix you a cup of tea, you look like you could use it," she sighed. 

Quistis did not want tea, she wanted to track down Zell but judging from the determined tilt of Ma Dincht's jaw, one was going to happen before the other. Tentatively, she took a seat at the kitchen table. Her hands were trembling. Having the plan she had in her mind be sidelined unsettled her. Puttering around the kitchen, the older woman carefully set two cups and saucers down and poured an already brewed pot of tea into them. She set one down before the blonde, nudging the cream and sugar towards her as she took her own seat. Primly, Quistis lifted up the small creamer and poured a small dram into her cup. She blinked as it spread through the drink, feeling surreal. An hour ago she had woken up in a hospital bed feeling supremely well rested, and her world had quickly slammed down upon her. Now she was sipping tea with Zell's mother. 

"Try not to worry too much, dear. Zell can take care of himself."

Coming back to herself, silently Quistis both agreed and disagreed. When it came to the big stuff; his power, world destruction, yes he certainly was capable. It was the little things that escaped him... tests, reports, timetables. And the emotional. He's never had a very firm grip on his own feelings and how to keep them in check. She wanted so badly to be the one he turned to, but he had fled Garden in his shame and not allowed her that. She was worried about how far he might run before she caught up. 

"He's very... He means well. This wasn't his fault. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time," she explained haltingly. 

"And you got caught in the crossfire," Ma Dincht nodded understandingly.

"No, I put myself in the line of fire. I could stand against him in a fight. The students would have been annihilated. He's exceptionally powerful, your son. He amazes even me."

_Especially me_ , her heart whispered traitorously. 

"I thank the world every single day for my boy," Ma Dincht sighed happily, then frowned. "But you got hurt. That's why he's upset. Very much so."

"So I've heard," Quistis shrugged softly. "but he left Garden before I woke up. I'd like to see him. I _need_ to see him."

"He isn't here," the older woman said, watching her.

"Oh. Is he down by the water where he took me before?" Quistis asked, confused.

"I don't know dear. I never could tell where that boy was going to end up. But give him time. He has to forgive himself and that is never easy," she cautioned.

"I need to speak to him. I want him to know... I don't want him to think... I think that he, that is to say - "

"I think," Ma interrupted, "you think too much. You can't plan every step no matter how hard you might try. Some cards just fall where they may. You should know that, you're a Triple Triad player."

"I see," Quistis murmured, her train of thought derailed. "You might be right. I still have to try."

She stood, nodding slightly and padding barefoot to the front door. She slid on her boots, aware of Ma Dincht standing behind her barely coming to her shoulder. She felt ungainly and awkward, unsure of her own footing and wondering when she would regain her poise and dignity. Since Zell had taken her fishing, her entire would had been off kilter, unbalanced, askew. 

But for awhile... she had been enjoying it. 

"Mrs. Dincht, thank you for the tea."

"Thank you for the company, dear," she replied softly, eyes gentle with a warmth she had seen many times in her son. "I hope you find him fast."

\--

Quistis parked her car at the docks, sliding out and locking it behind her. The sun was warm, the breeze light, and salt was thick in the air. She made her way down over a jumble of stones onto the soft sand, grimacing slightly when her boots sunk into the powder. Making a conscious effort not to think too hard, she quickly stepped out of her boots, flexing her toes in the sand and biting her lip. Picking her boots up and carrying them with her she slowly made her way down the beach. She idly watched the fishermen and their boats, the children scampering up and down the netting piled on the beach like little crabs, and wondered what it would have been like if she'd been adopted by simple fishermen like these ones. Would the world be different? Would she have still found her way into the lives of the Orphanage gang? Would she have been better at fishing?

She caught sight of Zell slumped over his dock, knee dragged up, the other dangling, chin tucked into the elbow he had hugged around his knee. A fishing rod lay abandoned across the dock and as she watched he shifted, plucking listlessly at the denim of his shorts. Quistis felt her stomach plummeting when she saw the flex of his muscles, remembering the feel of his fists smashing into her ribs, remembering him balancing on the edge of the fountain, smashing that fist into her jaw, bouncing energetically in the training center, flexing and wild with energy... Such a conflict between the brightness of his personality and the raw danger of his power. She padded forward, making sure to drop her boots along the dock and alert him to her presence. He turned his head towards her, and upon catching sight of who it was he scrambled to his feet looking first elated than apprehensive. Quistis watched the expressions flash openly over his face, fascinated. He looked exhausted and dimmed, the corners of his mouth turned down in an ill-fitting frown.

She halted close enough to see that his hair was tousled, his clothing mussed, and he hadn't shaved. The realization ached somewhere deep inside. 

"Quistis! You shouldn't be here. What are you doin' up?" he asked plaintively, his eyes flicking up and down the length of her looking for injuries. They caught on her bare toes for a moment and he looked pained.

"I'm fine," she said automatically, her fingers itching to touch his anxiously swinging arms. Reaching out slightly, she caught his sleeve.

"Don't," he said through gritted teeth, and stung, her hand fell away.

He turned from her, shoulders tense and staring hard out at the water. He curled his shoulders inward, hunching himself protectively away from her.

"You were hurt _so_ _bad_ ," he murmured.

"I was," she acknowledged, "But I got through it."

He shot her a look, sharp, and shook his head.

"That ain't the point. Don't you get it? It was horrifying waking up to that. Waking up to _you_ ," he pulled off his gloves and she took in the swollen knuckles, the chaffed skin. "Knowin' that the fists I'm so proud of were covered in _your_ blood 'cause I bashed 'em up on _your_ body."

"Zell," Quistis scoffed, "you didn't exactly come out of it unscathed. You had broken bones. I ripped your face up with my whip. I sliced your Achilles tendon."

He met her gaze levelly for a moment, blue on blue, an electricity between them that excited her and confused him.

"I never doubted you were strong, Quistis," he said with uncharacteristic solemnity, "but this is the first time I ever doubted your common sense."

"There wasn't much sense involved, admittedly," she sighed. "but there was little time for strategy when an entire school of students under my protection were still at risk. Do or die."

He winced, drawing into himself once more. "With you I feel all shook up," he mumbled. "Squall said you held your own. I knew you could against me, I just never thought you'd _have_ to."

"That's the nature of having this much power, Zell. Of being what we are, which is nothing short of incredible, we run the risk of becoming a threat to the very things we want to protect. It isn't enough to be strong, you have to be smart too."

"Well damn," he scoffed, scuffing a foot against the dock. "I'm screwed then!"

A ghost of his old grin appeared, all white teeth and dimples, and her heart thumped loudly.

"I just want you to know that I would have done the same thing if it was Selphie, Squall, Irvine, Rinoa, Seifer... It wouldn't matter who, I would have fought any of them to save those students." she said.

Zell nodded, oddly comforted by the words. It shifted some of the guilt he was harboring away from his battered thoughts to know that the actions Quistis had taken would have remained the same no matter who she was facing. It made him feel like less of a monster.

"You're coming with me tonight," she said calmly. "We're heading to Dollet."

"The mission?" he asked, beyond surprised. He blinked at her. "But Quisty, you ain't... you gotta recover!" 

She lifted her chin, her brow arching. "Zell, I am no shrinking violet, I'm a warrior. I'm not going to wallow in what happened. I'm going to accept that it happened, learn how to prevent it from ever happening again, and grow from the experience. It was nothing _you_ did to _me_. It was something that was done to _you_." 

She stared him down, her beautiful face still and strong. 

"You aren't allowed to run from me Zell," she said softly. "We've come to far for that. We're going to get our heads back in the game. We're going to work together and succeed. We're not going to let this change us."

He nodded slowly, turning his eyes on the sea. Tentatively, she reached out and covered his hand with her own. He didn’t pull his hand away but made no move to further the gesture.

"I think I'll stay away next time you're teachin' outside, Quisty," he said ruefully.

_I don't want you to stay away_ , she thought sadly, but gave it no voice.

They quietly watched the water for a time, saying no more.

  
  


-

  
  


He had always known he was strong, had always felt the power crackling within him that meant he was more than the sum of his parts. He was gifted in a world filled with incredible gifts. But when he had met the others, Squall and Quistis and Selphie and Irvine... when he had been merely one exceptional person in a group of the exceptional, it had been easy to forget how dangerously powerful they all were in a world brimming with potent, destructive magic. There was little balance to the scales. There were people with so little magic they couldn't heat dishwater and others with enough power in their palm to level a building.

Zell was among the elite, the incredible, and with that power came the incredible complications of restraining it. After Ultemecia, after time warps and lost memories and twisted futures crumpled up with the past they were different people entirely, and the only ones to understand how truly segregated and unrelatable they were had been the other people who had fought that war. Irvine with his perfect sights, Selphie with her terrifying End, Rinoa with the ability to heal near miraculously, Squall with his destructive, damning gunblade, Quistis with her myriad of vicious blue magic and he, Zell, with his savage fists.

And now that he had been reminded of the destruction they could rain down on the people he cared about, even his equally strong companions, he was faced with a choice. He could retire the gloves, buckle under the pressure of his own power and try to hide it away or try to wrestle the energy and wildness that made him _him_ and control it. He couldn’t erase his own strength but he wasn’t ashamed to admit he was scared of it sometimes. Quistis had read the situation on the dock and left as quietly as she’d come after telling him where to meet her later and he’d hung his head in shame for a long time after her soft footsteps had padded away. Her poor little feet had been perfect and unmarked and unbelievably bare. The feeling of her hand on his still tingled but he wanted to erase those sensations, banish them. This wasn’t the right time, dammit! Couldn’t his body get a clue?

He cracked his knuckles, smiling a little even as the sore skin protested. Quistis had tracked him down. She must be starting to understand him pretty good because she’d found him out here and he hadn’t even told Ma where he was headed.

With a sigh, Zell heaved himself upwards and jammed his hands into his pockets, staring out to sea a bit more. He sure could have used some expert knowledge from his Gramps. He’d know what to say to make this gnawing guilt ease up a bit, and he’d probably have some really good ideas as to how to deal with these crazy feelings for a super gorgeous blonde. But Gramps wasn’t here and the next best person to talk to was and always would be his Ma.

Turning from the dock, he started up the beach, petulantly kicking sand as he went until he stubbed his toe on a piece of driftwood. He wound his way through the cobbled streets of Balamb, waving to those who called out to him even if he wasn’t feelin’ it. No need to be rude. He came to his old stomping grounds, the little fussy potted plants his mom kept marking the right door in explosions of red that reminded him way too much of the blood that had been drying all over Quistis’s face when he had picked her up. He sighed loudly, jamming his hands even harder into his pockets and staring so hard at those plants he thought they might catch fire.

“Why don’t you come inside, Zell?” his mother said, holding the door open. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been watching the flower now and he flushed, hand loosening from the fist in his pocket to come up and ruefully scrub his neck.

“Sure Ma,” he laughed. “If you ain’t scared I’ll break shit.”

She frowned at his swearing and pulled his arm. He came willingly.

“Zelly, I would be just as afraid of you breaking things if you were the neighbor's boy, Elliot. That has nothing to do with brute strength and everything to do with your being a young man.”

“Elliot’s a dope,” he muttered, throwing himself into his usual chair and propping his elbows on the table though he caught his mother’s disapproving glance.

“I’ll make fresh tea,” she said steadily, and began bustling about the kitchen, lighting the stove and settling the kettle on the burner. He threw her a curious look.

“Your friend was here earlier and we had tea,” she offered quietly. “I’d forgotten that her Triple Triad card barely does her justice. She’s an absolutely stunning girl.”

_And I punched her in that beautiful face so hard her nose had to have been broken and there was so much blood it must have looked like her mouth was cut in half._

Zell swallowed thickly, crossing his arms on the tabletop and hanging his head. He listened to the clink of his mother’s good bone china cups as she gently laid them in their saucers. He had told his mom that something bad happened with magic and he had ended up fighting Quistis but hadn't gone much into the details. He was too ashamed, but bottling up had never done him much good.

“I got Berserked. Some dumb kid tossed off some bad magic and I got hit with the wrong spell. Berserk makes you an animal, nothin’ but rage and violence, and for a normal guy it's dangerous enough but for me… I could have leveled the whole Garden if nobody like me had been there to stop me. A lot of people could have died Ma.” He took a deep breath, the kettle starting it's low whistle. “We should have been prepared, should have had the right magic to stop it right away but it’s been so long since there’s been trouble, I guess we slacked a bit. I thought we were safe, I thought we were safe from things like _me_. Quisty… she stopped all that. Got between me and the kids, kept me interested in her instead of attacking Garden or cadets. Took a massive beating. Anybody not from the Orphanage Gang would have been toast, but Quisty… Quistis… She took a heap of abuse from my hands. Drained herself dry of magic healin’ me with the little bit she had left instead of healin’ herself. Never thought she’d make a dumb move like that.”

He trailed off gently, throat dry. 

Ma Dincht removed the steaming kettle and poured the water carefully into the waiting teapot on the tray. She took a deep breath of the cinnamon scent wafting from the water. She waited.

“Ma? How much strength is too much? I mean, where’s the limit? There ain’t no point to being this strong if I can’t do nothin’ with these hands except wreck stuff.”

Quistis had come onto that dock in her bare feet, which were just as smooth and long and perfect as the rest of her, and sat down beside him and held his hand and tried to get him to let her forgive him, to get him to forgive himself. Her feet were so slim and so naked, each little toe and tiny little seashell nail. Pretty little bare feet. Why did he want to cry when he thought about them?

“Zell,” his mother said firmly, and he glanced up in time to see her pull back her arm and whip one of her china cups directly at his face. He reacted instinctively, reflexes honed and ready, and brought a hand up just in time to catch the fragile thing. Incredulous, he looked from his unrepentant mother to the cup in his hands and back again.

“Ma!” he gasped, scandalized.

“Look at that cup,” she ordered, and he did just that, glancing at his mom in skittish suspicion when she walked over to the table with the full tea tray.

“What about it? Why’d you chuck it at me? Was I talkin’ too much?”

She unwrapped his hand from the fragile, unbroken glass, placed the saucer on the table and set it upon it. Her mouth spreading into a small smile, she poured a steaming cup of tea into it, than her own.

“Your hands can do so much more than _wreck_ _stuff_. They can be a rough or as gentle as you need them to be. You are so much more than you think you are and the power that you have inside of you is a gift, and you are a hero not a monster, because you respect it.”

She put two lumps of sugar into his cup and a heap of cream, knowing even then that he would be much happier if she brought him one of the fizzy pops she kept for him in the fridge. She pushed her offering his way and he looked at it thoughtfully.

“Zell, that spell you were under took away that respect. It wasn’t _you_. And that girl, Quistis, she did what she has done from the moment you met her even as a little girl. She protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself. She protected others. That’s what _you_ would have done had she been hit by that spell instead of you. That’s what _heroes_ do. They protect those who cannot protect themselves. She signed on for that doubly as an instructor, protecting those children. You do her a disservice by blaming yourself and leaving you both stuck in that moment. It happened. You’ve made it through worse together and will probably go through more in the future. You need to thank Hyne that nobody got lastingly hurt and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

As his mother had spoken, Zell had wrapped his hands around that tiny little cup and brought it to his mouth, taking a warm mouthful and swallowing it. He took a deep breath, smiling at her ruefully.

“You're right Ma, and I'll get there. But I can’t figure myself out around her. She’s gorgeous and kinda snappy and a bit mean and a lot awesome. She’s super smart and so capable I feel like a moron around her. I want to be better. I want her to _see_ me. I'm not sure where this freakin' mess leaves us now. How can she look at me and not see me swingin' at her?”

"I don't think you have to worry much on that front," she said.

Ma Dincht thought of the composed, gorgeous young woman who had sat in that same chair earlier and been unable to clarify her own wants and feelings but was here for her boy nonetheless. Card King, child prodigy, Blue Magic Master, Weapon Specialist, Balamb Instructor and Hero of their world… and she was still just as difficult and muddled up as her darling boy before her. She looked over her son's face as he took another swig of tea, emptying the cup and very gingerly putting it down. He was so lovely to her, with his mouth of shiny white teeth and his laughing blue eyes and his crazy hair. There was so much to love about this boy, there had been since the day she laid eyes on him in the orphanage, bawling on the floor in his little suspenders.

She smiled broadly, and ruffled his hair a little.

“Better?” she asked.

“Better,” he agreed. “Can I have a pop now? This tea is nice and warm and all, but it’s still a gross drink. Just don't throw it at me, okay?”

\--


End file.
